


Death's Knight: Revisited

by Clell65619



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, dc comics new 52
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 19:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9919148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clell65619/pseuds/Clell65619
Summary: The following AU story is best understood if you are familiar with the mainstream comics of the DC Universe.  If you aren’t a fan of DC, or dislike comics, this probably isn’t the story for you.  Ideas being used come from Green Lantern, Sandman, World’s Finest (The New 52 Universe, and the mind of Heather Sinclair.  This universe differs greatly from the one you may be used to, be it the comics, movies or animated features.  This story begins a year after the inception of the New 52, and merges with the post Voldemort world of Harry Potter.This tale is inspired by Heather Sinclair’s wonderful Death’s Knight story, and is being retold with her permission





	1. Chapter 1

Death’s Knight: Revisited

A/N: The following AT story is best understood if you are familiar with the mainstream comics of the DC Universe. If you aren’t a fan of DC, or dislike comics, this probably isn’t the story for you. Ideas being used come from Green Lantern, Sandman, World’s Finest (The New 52 Universe, and the mind of Heather Sinclair. This universe differs greatly from the one you may be used to, be it the comics, movies or animated features. This story begins a year after the inception of the New 52, and merges with the post Voldemort world of Harry Potter.

This tale is inspired by Heather Sinclair’s wonderful Death’s Knight story, and is being retold with her permission

 

Chapter 1 – 

I pushed the broom into a steep dive, exulting in the thrill of flight, as I had every time I’d mounted a broom since the first time when I was all of eleven.

Truly, the only time I am truly at peace is when I am airborne. In the weeks since the defeat of Voldemort, the peace of flight was the only thing that had kept me sane. This was why I had snuck out of the Burrow for a bit of peace and quiet. I loved the Weasleys, I truly did, but sometimes the nonstop noise of a house that 8 people are calling home could get to be a bit much for a boy raised in a cupboard.

I pulled out of the dive, going horizontal a few inches above the meadow, some of the taller grasses tickled my knuckles as I planned my next move. Pulling up suddenly, I traded speed for altitude. 

This is why the black beam of death vaporized the plants of the meadow on my former path, rather than my head.

Of course, this wasn’t the first time I had been attacked since I put Riddle down. This fact explains why my first reaction was to draw my wand. The Holly and Phoenix feather wand was warm in my hand, welcoming my magic in that special way one’s first wand always does. I sent a stunner blindly the way the beam of black magic had come, almost as a reflex.

I looked up and watched as my stunning spell was absorbed by my opponent’s shield. My jaw clinched when I saw who I was fighting.

oooOOOooo

Contrary to popular belief, I’m not quite as dim as some people have suggested. I do pay attention to the world around me, and I was utterly aware of the emergence of the latest crop of ‘heroes’ around the world over the previous few years.

Beings of Power unknown since the gods and demigods of old trod this old Earth. People capable of laying waste to armies, and if the rumors were true, capable of using the explosion of a nuclear bomb as their own personal tanning bed. As a group they were kind of hard to miss.

The one who had just tried to kill me was the strongest of them all. I had no idea why he had changed his color scheme, ditching the red and blue of his famous costume for black and silver, but the big ‘S’ Shield was still on his chest. Hanging in the air with no apparent effort, the man extended his right arm and a new black beam of destruction leaped at me almost too fast for me to follow.

Fortunately, my reflexes remained as quick as ever, I slid to the left, causing the black beam to miss me by scant inches. Despite the miss, I felt the power behind the beam. It’s passing inspired feelings of despair, pain, and fear.

If I hadn’t been all too familiar with the effects of Dementors, I might have curled up and died right then and there. As it was, I was wondering since when Superman used a ring, like that Green Torch guy.

"Is that all you've got, Little Wizard?" The hovering Superman asked, his voice swimming in sarcasm. I got a better look at him while he was snarking at me. He appeared to be quite a bit older than the photos I'd seen previously had suggested, and on top of the change to his costume's color scheme, for some reason his famous cape was shredded tatters. "I have no idea why Lord Nekron has selected you and your kind to join our ranks, what I've seen so far hasn't impressed."

"Yeah?" I asked quietly, more for myself than him, "How about this?" I cast my strongest blasting curse, which his shield absorbed without a sound.

That was when Superman started laughing at me. Before I could react, his eyes glowed red and a pair of beams of red light converged on my wand.

And my right hand. I stared in disbelief as both my wand and my hand turned to ash.

An intelligent man would have given in to fear then. But then, no one has ever accused me of being all that intelligent. No, the emotion that consumed me in that moment of danger and need wasn't fear. It was anger.

With a thought the ring on my left hand caused the Elder Wand appear in my left hand and Death's Cloak to wrap my body, allowing me to vanish from sight. I disapparated to the ground, leaving the broom to fall without me. If I was going to fight a Demi-God, I was going to do it with both my feet firmly on the ground, and I was going to cheat for all I was worth. Combining the Hallows had supposedly made me the 'Master' of Death. So far the only thing I'd noticed was that I could use any of the Hallows to summon any or all of the others. Still, there had to be some advantage.

It turns out even Supermen can be blindsided by an attack coming from someone they cannot see. In his searching for me, he was revolving in place, those creepy red eyes searching for any movement. That was why my Bombarda Maxima hit him in the back of the head. The thunderous explosion knocked the decidedly unheroic hero from the sky, resulting in what was, for me anyway, a most satisfying face plant into the mud. I followed the Bombarda with a Diffindo or two, a Duro, a Furnunculus, and finally a pair of Sectumsempras.

I know, I know, the spells were in alphabetical order. Sue me, I was freaking out a little from losing my right hand.

I was completely unprepared for Superman to rise from the mud, utterly unharmed, and to turn toward me.

"Perhaps you are a something of a minor challenge," he admitted generously as he began to move directly toward me. "Your invisibility is excellent, but I can still hear your heart beating. Let me take care of that for you."

I tried to disapparate again, but found that I couldn't. Something was holding me in place. I looked down to find my feet mired in a mass of black… something. Superman was less than a yard from me by now, his hands reaching for my invisible throat. I had no other choice. This Superman was insanely strong and durable, all of my magic had failed against him, and he clearly intended to kill me. I raised the Death Stick and cast.

"Avada Kedavra!" It wasn't the first of the unforgivables I had cast in my life, but it was certainly the worst. True to its reputation the sickly green of the Death Spell passed through the shield surrounding Superman as if it was not even there. It then hit the unheroic hero in the chest.

And he smiled as his hands closed around my throat.

oooOOOooo

Evidently, he intended to take his time. I mean, he could have snapped my head off my shoulders with his pinky fingers, instead he slowly squeezed, cutting off my air, then letting up to let me gasp, before starting the pressure again.

My feet were still restrained, my right hand was gone, I still held the Elder Wand in my left, but everything I had tried had been ineffectual, or worse.

As I felt his grip loosen to allow me a partial breath before cutting off my air supply again, I knew I had to cast… something. To this day I have no idea why I chose the spell I did. Perhaps it was luck, perhaps it was just that the spell had saved me before.

Perhaps reality had been shaped over several lifetimes to ensure that I would use the spell I chose in my desperation.

As the homicidal Superman allowed me to breathe once more, I pressed the tip of the Elder Wand against his chest and whispered; "Expecto Patronum!"

Prongs leapt from my wand into Superman's body, resulting in the invulnerable man being thrown bodily from me. Landing on the ground with a hollow thump, the hero began to thrash about screaming in agony.

The black substance that had been anchoring me to the ground vanished as I sucked in as much sweet air as I could. I took a few stumbling steps forward toward the thrashing man and tried to understand what I was seeing.

The patronis, normally useless against anything other than a dementor, was inside his body, and if the bulges that formed, disappeared, and reformed, where any indication, was fighting to get out. The superhuman was clearly in agony, and was decomposing before my eyes.

None of this made the slightest bit of sense.

Superman screamed yet again, and then slumped nerveless giving every indication of being unconscious or dead. Given my state, I think I could be forgiven for hoping for the latter. Prongs erupted from the unmoving man's chest and shook itself to remove the gore. My patronis then circled the fallen hero twice before dispelling.

"Oh," a new voice said, breaking through my pain to catch my attention, "well done, Harry. I knew you could do it."

oooOOOooo

I spun to face the speaker, Elder Wand at the ready, and found myself staring into the eyes of the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Her pale skin, which had obviously never seen the sun, was set off by her black clothing, and dark hair. Her lips were full, painted black in the classic Goth style and only inches from mine. At the outside corner of her right eye, she wore a tattoo of the Eye of Horus. A black choker encircled her throat, and from that bit of ribbon hung a silver Ankh. 

For the first time in my life, I was in love. All the girls before had been nothing more than infatuations compared to what I was feeling right then. What I wanted right then. What I needed right then.

"Okay," she laughed. "That's enough of that."

I blinked and suddenly she was… no longer 'all that'. Oh, she was cute and all, but I no longer wanted to throw myself at her feet and do anything to make her happy.

And I realized that I was still wearing Death's Cloak, and this girl was staring right at me. Where Superman found me by listening, Moody and Dumbledore could see through it by magically enhanced devices, she was looking right at me, unaided.

"Introductions are in order, I think," she laughed, showing cute little dimples. "You are Harry James Potter, and I am Death. That's my cloak, wand and stone you're using there Harry."

"Death," I said, willing the cloak and wand to return to their places of storage.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Death as in the end of life?" I asked.

"Also the beginning, but that’s not really the point," she sighed.

For some reason, I believed her. "You're not what I expected," I admitted. "So, Superman did kill me then? You're here for the both of us?"

"Let me guess, you think you expected a cloaked skeleton with a scythe?" she giggled. "That's just your cultural expectation, Harry. Those close to death see me as what they most want me to be." She looked down at her body and giggled again. "Most men see me like this, or something close to this. And no, I'm not here for either of you. You're still alive, you see, and poor Kal-L died years ago. He and I have already met."

My missing hand was really starting to bother me, so I kept the conversation going as a distraction. "Kal-L? And he was dead? He was doing an impressive job of killing me for a dead man." 

"You didn't think his real name was Superman, did you?" the girl shook her head. "He was the last survivor of a rather impressive race from a distant planet, until he died and ended that entire line. His reanimation is what I want to talk to you about Harry."

"Superman is an alien?" I choked out. I'm not sure why I was so surprised, I mean with everything he could do, but the ring guy and the one who ran fast and the buxom woman in the metal swimsuit were all human… or at least I thought they were. What were the odds of an alien world producing beings who looked so much like people?

"Kryptonian," Death nodded, gesturing toward the remains of my attacker, "He is not the Superman you know. That particular alien is still in Metropolis fighting dead people. And he isn't doing nearly as well as you did either."

She gestured and we were somewhere else. A tea shop by appearances. She slid into a chair at a table by the window and cocked her head, clearly waiting for me to take the other chair. 

"Harry," she said once I was seated, "Something horrible has happened and it is going to have far reaching consequences."

"Nope," I said. "Not my fault, not my problem. I've had it with being a 'chosen one'."

"You can't avoid being chosen Harry," she smiled. "You weren't chosen to defeat Riddle, good job with that by the way, you were chosen to gather the Hallows. Dealing with Riddle was only a step on that path."

"So… So I really am the Master of Death?"

That made Death laugh. Not the gentle giggles she had been enjoying throughout our very odd conversation, but full throated laughter. "Harry," she gasped, "you're killing me here. Do you really think that things as silly as a stone, a wand and an invisibility cloak would make you my master? I'm Death, Harry, I was born the day this Universe came into being and I will exist as long as the Universe remains. If I want to speak with the dead, I do, I don't need a rock. If I don't want to be seen, I'm not, I don't need a cloak, and for me a wand is nothing more than a back scratcher."

"Oh," I said, feeling more than a little stupid. "Then why did I need to gather the Hallows?"

"Because of what is happening today," Death said.

"A homicidal dead Superman?"

"No, Harry," she said gently. "Not entirely anyway. There are more universes that this one. In another, minor dimension there is a Death God imaginatively called Nekron who imagines himself my equal. Through a bit of admittedly ingenious subterfuge, he managed to steal a sliver of my power and used it to power the black rings."

"Rings?" I asked. "There's more than the one Superman was using?"

"There are millions, and more being created every second," Death gestured and in between us a view of the Burrow shimmered into existence. The rickety building was shattered and burning. Four of black clad individuals stood around the burning wreckage. Slowly more figures rose from the ground, their limbs hanging at odd angles, their faces frozen in a rictus of agony. When I realized that two of the figures were Ron and Hermione, I lunged from the table.

"Calm down Harry," Death said quietly. "There's nothing you can do for them, unless you want to end them the way you ended Kal-l's reanimation. Nekron had magic users specifically targeted. As of seven minutes ago, you are the only surviving wand wizard in the entire universe. Your friends, everyone you knew are Black Lanterns now."

I stood in the middle of the deserted tea shop, trying not to be overwhelmed by the idea of everyone I knew being dead. "What do you want from me?"

She smiled, "I need a representative to deal with the living, to neutralize the reanimated, and to bring me Nekron's head. The sliver of power he stole from me was an insignificant sliver of the whole, but it is mine, and I want it back."

"I see," I said, when I clearly didn't. "And how am I supposed to do these things?"

"I will be granting you a bit of my power, which combined with your magic should be enough to tip the scales in your favor."

"What do you need me for?" I asked. "Clearly you don't need me."

"But I do need you, Harry," she disagreed. "There are rules about how much I can interfere in the lives of the living. Having you as my agent will allow me more latitude that I've ever had before."

"And what's in it for me?" 

"Nekron's actions have corrupted this reality to the point where my brother Destiny is going to fix things," she said.

Her brother? No, I decided, worry about that later. "Fix things?" 

"He's going to do a reset," Death explained. "He's going counter most of the changes Nekron has made. What I can do for you is arrange for your friends to live in the new version. They will be different than you knew them, and they won't know you, but they will be alive."

How could I possibly turn that down? Death knew me all too well it seems. My 'people saving thing' was evidently well known even outside Hogwarts.

"That seems like a generous offer," I admitted. "Can I think about it?"

"No," Death replied. "You can't. The reset is happening soon, and you're going to need the closure of releasing your friends from reanimation. I need your answer now, Harry."

What else could I say?

"Yes."

oooOOOooo

We were back in the meadow where I had fought the dead Superman. I stood blinking at the sudden change in location as Death knelt down to remove the black ring from the deceased hero's hand.

"May I have your ring, Harry?"

I moved to remove the Gaunt Ring and suddenly remembered that my right hand was gone. Even though the heat of Superman's eye beams cauterized the wound, there should have been pain, shouldn't there? After the first few moments there hadn't been.

Death approached me and pulled the Gaunt Ring from my finger. She held it in her left hand and the black ring from Superman in her right, and pressed the two together while blowing on them, like a she was cooling a spoonful of soup. Once she was done, Death inspected the result and nodded to herself. She gently took my left hand and placed the now changed single ring onto my hand. The new ring was smaller than the Gaunt Ring, black as midnight in a coalmine. It offered no reflections, indeed, any light that hit is appeared to be absorbed utterly. The crown of ring held a silver ankh.

"My ring," Death said with a giggle when she saw me looking at it, "my sigil. There are certain advantages in working for me. How's your right hand?"

I held up my right hand and my eyes widened when I saw that it was back.

"Despite the black ring, you are not a black lantern, Harry. If anything you are a Death Lantern," Death looked pensive for a moment, "I think perhaps I'd prefer you to be known as my Knight."

oooOOOooo

Flying by ring is really cool. The only reason I wasn't enjoying it was that I was over the Burrow facing off against the closest thing I've ever had for a family.

The Weasley family, minus Bill and Charlie, but plus Hermione flew up to meet me, courtesy of their Black Lantern Rings.

"This is your fault Harry," Hermione spat. "If you had been here we might have had a chance, but no, you were off on your own and now you defy our Lord Nekron with this foul imitation of his sigil."

I knew that part of being a Black Lantern was the twisting of minds of the dead to where they blamed the living for their plight prior to killing them. "I'm sorry Hermione," I said, "You're right, I should have been here. It wouldn't have made any difference, but I should have been here."

The Weasley twins were beating on my shield bubble with all their considerable might. For some reason, those two were more in tune with the Black Rings than the others.

"I suppose you're happy now Harry," Ron shouted, "If you couldn't fuck Hermione you wanted her dead."

"Ok, that's enough," I said. "Everyone on the ground, now."

They obediently descended to the ground near the destroyed Burrow, and waited for me to follow. This was a gift from Death, mostly because it amused her. Since the magic animating the Black Lanterns was hers, as was the magic behind my ring, as well as the Elder Wand and my Death's Cloak, she decided that, just this once, I could actually be the Master of Death… or at least the Master of the Dead. They would obey me, at least until Destiny's Reset.

"Weasleys," I said quietly when I landed. "Hermione, I'm so sorry about this, but I'm trying to fix it. You won't know me once it's fixed, but I'll know you, remember you. Take off you rings."

Whether they wanted to or not, my family removed the rings that animated their forms and collapsed when the influence of the Rings left their bodies.

"The rest won't be as easy, Harry," Death said when she appeared at my elbow.

"Why not?"

"Because the reset will change what powers the Black Lanterns that survive the change," she shrugged. "Destiny has the details, I don't really care. You will remain significantly more powerful, but they will put up a fight. I only did it so that you didn't need to kill your friends and family."

"Thank you."

"Well, not kill them, since that was done a while ago, but you mortals rarely make the distinction," she continued.

"Thank you," I repeated.

"If you want to find a souvenir, make it quick, the reset is in 10 minutes and we will need to be off plane when it happens."

 

oooOOOooo

Searching with the ring made a seemingly impossible task easy. I found many things I wanted to keep, and stored them away in storage pockets that the voice in the ring called 'subspace storage'. Examples of the twin's pranking material, the Weasley family clock, Hermione's copy of Hogwarts a History, and a photo of Ron, Hermione, and me.

"Ready?" Death called. "It's time to go."


	2. Chapter 2

Death's Knight: Revisited

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and constitutes no claim on the personalities or ideas incorporated in the Harry Potter series or those of the DC Universe contained within.

A/N: The following AU story is best understood if you are familiar with the mainstream comics of the DC Universe as well as the story of Harry Potter. If you aren't a fan of DC, or dislike comics, this probably isn't the story for you. Ideas being used come from Green Lantern, Sandman, World's Finest (The New 52 Universe, and the mind of Heather Sinclair. This universe differs greatly from the one you may be used to, be it the comics, movies or animated features. This story begins a year after the inception of the New 52, and merges with the post Voldemort world of Harry Potter.

This tale is inspired by Heather Sinclair's wonderful Death's Knight Story, and is being retold with her permission

Chapter 2 –

I'm not going to try to describe the Etheric, the home of the Endless. Since that first visit, I learned that Death was only one aspect of the Endless; she had six brothers and sisters.

Destiny, who I've already mentioned, Dream, Destruction, Desire, Despair, and Delirium make up Death's 'family'. I met them all during visits to the Etheric after the Reset, but I try not to think about them much.

I've discovered I value my sanity far too much to spend much time thinking about aspects of existence having personalities.

That first time, Death took me to a formless, timeless void, told me it was the Etheric, and disappeared for approximately forever, or about 5 minutes.

I'm quite honestly not sure which. I mean when a cosmic entity performs a 'reset' on reality, what happens? Does he just open his book (Destiny's book is called the Cosmic Log, which if you believe the hype has written in it everything that has ever or will ever happen. The Log is either chained to Destiny or Destiny is chained to it. Again, I'm not sure which, or if it even makes a difference) and scratch out the offending passage and write in the changes?

Are the changes retroactive or did the Universe have to roll back to the beginning and play out again minute by minute to incorporate the changes?

Yet another thing I try not to think about.

So, after five minutes, (or forever), Death was back. Without preamble she returned me to the site of the Burrow.

Except, there was no Burrow. Together we were standing in some well-tended farmland.

How do I know we were on the site of the Burrow? The ring told me. There is a voice in the ring and it talks to me.

"Harry," Death said taking my hand in hers. "This has all happened quickly. You're only human. Before you start on the destruction of the remaining Black Lanterns, I want you to come to terms with the changes in your life, and learn to use my ring."

I curled my left hand into a fist and looked at the ring. "How long to I have?"

"No one is going to know what happened," she said. "The Heroes of the universe will remember fighting the Black Lanterns and winning, but will be fuzzy on the details. The surviving living Black Lanterns will know they lost, but not know how. The few reanimated dead will neither know nor care. I've stopped the creation of new rings, so you have a chance to acclimate to your new situation. Call it six months. That should be time enough for you to come to terms with the changes in the world, and give you a chance to learn to use my Ring before you leave Earth to cleanse the universe of Nekron's servants."

oooOOOooo

Wrapped in Death's Cloak, I hovered in the air over the back garden of #46 Velwell road in Exeter.

The home of Arthur and Molly Weasley.

My Ring found them through governmental records, though surprisingly, at least to me, not from the records of the Ministry of Magic. I found Arthur Weasley via the records of Inland Revenue.

He paid taxes to the Muggle Government. I am relatively certain that the Arthur I knew had never done that. Something very odd was going on.

Not long after I found the house, a white Ford Transit van pulled into the drive, bearing signage that indicated that it belonged to Arthur Weasley, Electrician.

Electrician. That made no sense.

"Ring, scan the house for any sign of magic."

COMPLIANCE was the only response from the voice in the Ring.

After several seconds the Ring spoke again.

USING RING BEARER POTTER AS AN EXAMPLE OF 'MAGIC', NONE OF THE RESIDENTS OF #46 VELWELL ROAD SHOW ANY SIGN OF BIOLOGICALLY GENERATED POTENTIAL FOR THE MANIPULATION OF QUANTA.

The Weasleys were Muggles?

The Ring allowed me to enter the house through the expediency of simply passing through a solid wall. 'Phasing' the ring called it. I found myself in a girl's room. Ginny's? A quick search of the room found a pile of magazines, a few posters of what I assume to be actors or singers and a under the floorboards directly in front of the window containing a small bottle of rum and a plastic bag of weed.

No sign of anything related to Hogwarts or anything else to do with magic.

Ron's room was next

This version of my friend was evidently a fan of Exeter City, judging by the posters in his room and the strip in his wardrobe. More weed, this time not hidden at all. A pay stub indicating that Ron worked as a plumber's assistant.

A Muggle Ron Weasley. My mind was officially blown.

Then I found Arthur and Molly's room. A bed, a pair of wardrobes, various tables and dressers. Unmoving photos on the walls, photos of redheaded children and grandchildren.

Downstairs I found the expected sitting room, a large telly and more photos of red-headed people I recognized doing unmagical things.

Molly and Arthur were in the Kitchen, Molly fussing with multiple pots on the cooker, Arthur sitting at the table, pretending to read the Daily Mail while watching his wife's every move, lovingly.

That much, at least, had not changed.

Seeing the adult Weasleys like that really hit me hard. They were healthy, (the ring confirmed that, after noting a bit of an issue with Arthur's heart, that I corrected unseen and undetected), happy and so very in love. But they were Muggles.

I exited the kitchen by passing through the ceiling, directly into Arthur and Molly's bedroom. I paused to gather myself when it occurred to me that I could at least do something for them. From subspace I extracted the Weasley Family clock. I placed it on Molly's side table and examined the hands.

It appeared to actually be working. The hands for Arthur and Molly showed them to be at home. Bill and Fleur also showed they were at home… Were Bill and Fleur together in this world?

"Ring, locate Bill Weasley, report marital status."

COMPLIANCE:

Returning to the clock I saw Charlie, Percy and the Twins were all indicated to be at work, while Ron and Ginny's hands showed them transiting from 'Travelling' to 'Home'. I glanced out the window in time to see a battered white mini pulling into the drive behind Arthur's van, after it stopped, Ron and Ginny exited the car, squabbling about something the way they always did.

Report: William Arthur "Bill" Weasley Born 29 November, 1970. Married Fleur Isabelle Delacour August 1 1997.

Well, that answered that. Stepping away from the window, I left the clock and exited the house, not sure if I was ever coming back.

oooOOOooo

Melancholy is an odd state of being. I'd never really felt it before. Not as dark as depression, that one I knew well, but not as light as sadness, another emotion I was more than familiar with.

It was more of a not caring what happened.

That's what I was feeling since finding the Weasley family. I'd known they wouldn't have known me… since I was off the dimensional plane during the reset; I hadn't existed for them to know me. That was fine. I could meet them again.

But for them to not be magical?

I thought about finding Hermione… but wasn't willing to face an unmagical girl wearing my best friend's face, just as I wasn't ready to face Ron.

Hovering high over Exeter, wrapped in Death's Cloak, I found myself fixated on the Weasley family not having their magic. Never having had it, they didn't miss it, and Arthur's fascination with plugs took a somewhat humorous turn with his being an electrician in this world, but what about the rest of the Magical World?

Were they powerless too?

I had to know. With a thought the ring warped time and space for me and I vanished from the skies of Exeter.

oooOOOooo

And appeared over Hogwarts.

Power Rings, I am more than willing to admit, are seriously awesome.

The old girl was still there, still as beautiful as the first time I saw her on one of those ridiculous boats that Hagrid used to bring us from Hogsmeade. I could see students in uniform scurrying to and fro in the windows.

That's when I realized that my sense of time was off. It had been mid-July when Kal-L had attacked me. School should not be in session.

"Ring, local time and date."

COMPLIANCE: the ring said in my head. LOCAL TIME 18:24 LOCAL DATE SUNDAY 20 SEPTEMBER 1999.

I'd lost two months, on top of all else. "Ring, scan for Hogwarts Headmistress." Maybe McGonagall would be interested in helping out an intra-universal traveler.

COMPLIANCE: there was a short pause. FACILITY DESIGNATED HOGWARTS IS CURRENTLY HEADED BY HEADMASTER ALBUS DUMBLEDORE. SUBJECT DESIGNATED DUMBLEDORE IS IN THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE.

A section of the castle lit up in a light that only I could see. That didn't even register at the time. I was too busy digesting the fact that Dumbledore was still alive.

You have to understand, to me, he had been dead for more than a year at this point. I'd grieved and made my peace with his death… I'd even forgiven him for making me watch Snape kill him. Finding out he was alive was only the latest shock of the day.

I landed outside of Hogsmeade. Death's Cloak flowed around my body until it appeared to be a mildly expensive set of robes and I went looking for the Three Broomsticks.

I badly needed a drink.

oooOOOooo

Rosmerta herself brought me my firewhisky.

It was comforting to see that some things hadn't changed in this new reality. Rosie was still the woman we would fantasize about in the dorms.

Thank Merlin for small favors.

"Ring," I subvocalized. "Locate Hermione Jane Granger.

COMPLIANCE:

I concentrated on my drink, trying not to stare at Rosmerta's chest, and waited.

HERMIONE JANE GRANGER, BORN 19 SEPTEMBER 1979. CURRENT LOCATION: 17-18 TOOK'S COURT LONDON.

Crap, that's right, she'd be 20 as of yesterday. The location was odd; her parents didn't live in London.

"Ring, provide more detail about the location of Hermione Granger."

COMPLIANCE: 17-18 TOOK'S COURT LONDON. BUSINESS RECORDS SHOW THAT ADDRESS IS ASSIGNED TO THE FOOD SERVICE BUSINESS DESIGNATED VANILLA BLACK. A SEARCH OF THE BUSINESS' COMPUTER RECORDS SHOW HERMIONE GRANGER RESERVED SEATING FOR TWO. THIS SUGGESTS SOME STAGE OF THE HUMAN MATING RITUAL.

Well, crap on a crumpet. Hermione was dating? Transitioning to London would only take a second; I could check up on her and see if she had her magic…

I raised my drink to my lips and almost jumped out of my chair when I locked eyes with Albus Dumbledore sitting across the table from me.

oooOOOooo

"Hello," the old man said, his eyes twinkling in his normal way. For some reason I could not quite identify, I found that comforting. I also found the fact that I found his twinkling eyes comforting to be a bit disturbing.

"I hope you don't mind my joining you, but I have made it my habit to meet any beings of great power who suddenly appear so close to my school."

"Oh, stop," I said with a smile, "you're going to make me blush. Professor Dumbledore I presume?"

"I am indeed, my boy. And you are?"

Who was I indeed? I hadn't even checked to see if the Potters existed before being found by the Headmaster. No sense trying to pass myself off as a lost relative if the Potters were a force in this world. Keep it simple if they were, I would claim to be a Muggleborn. "My name is Harry Potter, Professor."

"Ring" I subvocalized. "Scan for Dumbledore's wand. Is it the Death Wand?"

COMPLIANCE: the Ring responded.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"As I said," the old man said, his eyes twinkling like mad. "I detected a person of great power appearing outside of Hogsmeade and thought to meet you. You will find I am quite protective of my students."

WAND IN POSSESSION OF WIZARD DESIGNATED ALBUS PERCIVAL WULFRIC BRIAN DUMBLEDORE: OAK AND PHOENIX FEATHER. ANALYSIS: NOT THE DEATH WAND.

Well that was a relief. Then I remembered Dumbledore's penchant for mind magics. "Ring, protect my mind from mental intrusion of any kind."

COMPLIANCE:

"A reasonable attitude for a professional educator to have," I nodded, while trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for my presence. It struck me that the truth about needing to improve my piss-poor education might be the best reason I could offer. "I mean your students no harm; I am simply visiting various centers of learning around the world in an attempt to expand my knowledge."

"You are a bit older than our average student, Mr. Potter," the old man noted. No mention of other Potters. Well, that was a relief.

"Oh, I'm not looking to enroll, Professor," I laughed. "I was hoping for a chance to use your library for a bit of research."

A smile crossed his lips, "Hogwarts is hardly a public lending library, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, I understand that, Professor," I laughed. "I was thinking of it as more of a business opportunity. I've never heard of a school that couldn't use a bit of cash to bolster its budget. I was hoping that we might be able to negotiate the establishment of a Potter Scholarship in exchange for access to your famous library."

That seemed to interest him. It seemed I had stumbled upon a universal (or perhaps, trans-universal) truth, no school ever had enough money. The negotiations for access to the Hogwarts Library began.

oooOOOooo

One of the problems with being dropped into a reality where you don't exist with a Power Ring powered by Death herself is that, while, as jobs go, it's really cool, it doesn't actually pay. If I wanted a warm, dry, place to sleep at night and regular meals, I was going to need a source of income.

Especially if Dumbledore was going to charge me to use the Hogwarts Library.

I know, I know, I can hear you hypothetical readers asking, why would the idiot with the Power Ring need access to a magical library?

The answer to that is that the power over the dead that Death had allowed me in my original existence was a one-time thing, isolated to that time and place. Here in this reality, the reanimated Black Lanterns wouldn't just remove their rings and die (or deanimate or whatever it is that happens when something that is already dead stops moving around) when I told them too.

Yeah, I had a Power Ring, but so would everyone I was to be hunting. So I was going to need to stack the deck in my favor. This came from the best bit of advice I'd ever gotten in my life, and that came from the Weasley Twins.

"When in doubt, young Harry," Fred had said, "Cheat."

"Cheat most grievously," George nodded his agreement.

"But that would be unfair," I protested.

"Harry," George said, ruffling my hair, "we aren't talking about Quidditch, or chess, or classwork."

"We've noticed that you seem to find utter disasters without really trying," Fred agreed. "And often as not, our idiot brother is right there beside you."

"Not that we really care if he gets hurt or mangled," George pointed out, "but Mum is really attached to him."

"You would think that with six sons, she wouldn't be so adverse to a bit of pruning of the family tree," Fred sighed. "But she is."

"So, if you can keep Ron in one piece by cheating," George said, "Cheat."

Just thinking about that conversation made me want to find a way to reconnect with the twins again.

I put that thought aside. If I was going to have what could even laughingly pass for a life, I was going to need a place to live, and everything that required. This meant I needed a source of income. Being Death's personal Superhero had its advantages, but it didn't come with a paycheck.

Oh, sure, between my magic and my ring, I could take pretty much what I wanted, but I still needed to be able to look myself in the eye while I shaved.

Damned morals.

A job seemed pretty much out of the question. Most employers would take exception to my disappearing to run Death's errands. No, I needed to be independently wealthy.

But how?

When in doubt, ask the Ring.

"Ring, I need a source of income."

DEFINE INCOME PARAMETERS was the response from the ring.

Well, that was a good question, wasn't it? Directing my response to the ring I continued. "I need a source of legal income that will not attract attention from the government of the UK."

DEFINE INCOME

Evidently I was expecting a bit much from a ring created by a pair of incarnations of Death. I pondered the question for a moment before deciding to go with the Magical answer. "Gold. I need a steady, legal, source of gold."

ACCESSING GOVERNMENTAL DATABASES

I waited several seconds while the ring did its thing.

SEARCH PARAMETER PRECLUDES ACCESSING GOVERNMENTAL GOLD RESERVES, AS WELL AS MINING FOR GOLD AND SALVAGING SHIPWRECKS. TOP THREE OPTIONS IN DESCENDING ORDER OF EASE OF ACCESS:

HARVEST DISOLVED PARTICULATE GOLD FROM SEAWATER

HARVEST ASTROIDAL GOLD DEPOSITS FROM NEAR TERRAN SPACE

ADAPT TRANSMUTATIONAL TECHNOLOGY TO CURRENT TERRAN STANDARD.

I blinked. You could get gold from seawater? Learn something new every day. "How much gold could I get from seawater?"

TERRAN OCEANS HOLD ON AVERAGE ONE MILLIGRAM OF GOLD PER TONNE OF SEAWATER.

And suddenly, I understood why I'd never heard of gold in seawater before. A milligram in a tonne? Why would anyone bother?

"Clarification, how much gold will you be able to process from seawater in a day?"

FULL COVERAGE WOULD REQUIRE SIX CONSTRUCTS PROPERLY PLACED IN THE WORLD SEA OF TERRA PRODUCING 400 KILOGRAMS OF GOLD EACH DAY, PER CONSTRUCT.

There was a short pause while I did the arithmetic in my head. 2.4 metric tonnes a day?

"Do it." I instructed, trying not to betray my emotions to the ring.

COMPLIANCE:

oooOOOooo

Twenty four hours later I was standing in Diagon Alley regarding a hidden shopping district that was a shadow of what I remember, but Gringotts was still there, as large and imposing as ever. The same guards at the door, the same slogan inscribed on the plate warning thieves of their fate, it actually felt homie to me.

Until I got inside and found the place to be almost empty. Where before there had been dozens of teller windows and counting tables there were now three teller windows, two of which had 'Next window please' signs pointing to the third.

At least there wasn't a line.

"Name" the goblin behind the window snarled helpfully.

Well, at least somethings hadn't changed, "Harry Potter," I replied.

The goblin glanced up at me before grabbing an accounts ledger and paging through it. "No Potters. Get out."

No Potters. That was news. I know I should have at least looked for my family, but I hadn't. Mostly I was afraid I would find myself happily living with my parents I suppose.

"I'm here to open an account," I explained.

"Wizards only," the Goblin snapped. "There are no wizards named Potter. Get out."

There was that Goblin charm I remembered. "I think you'll find that there is at least one Wizard named Potter, and I'm here to open an account. Now go get your manager and tell him that the biggest business opportunity of his lifetime is in his lobby getting angry, or I might just bring this place down around your pointy ears."

The Goblin's mouth twisted into a macabre imitation of a smile. "A threat, human?"

"A promise, Goblin," I responded, ordering the ring to give the walls of the bank a little shake.

That got everyone's attention. The Goblin disappeared from his window and returned moments later with a taller Goblin, this one in a suit that looked like it might have been from the Victorian era.

"What do you want Human?" the new comer demanded.

Ignoring the suited Goblin, I bent over until I was eye level with the teller. "Perhaps you should clean the wax out of your ears Goblin. I said I wanted your manager, not a floorwalker. Get him, now."

oooOOOooo

The Goblin technician looked up from his test chemicals.

"It is pure," he gasped.

I sat facing the large imposing desk. Beyond the desk, Ragnak, the Manager of Gringotts sat, glaring down at me. Yeah, Goblins like to play the dominance game of high ground, just like Humans.

To my left were four pallets of gold bars that I had summoned from subspace storage once the Bank Manager got finished threatening me for wasting his time. The four pallets only contained 1000 kilos of gold. I didn't want to flood the market after all.

Behind me stood three heavily armored and armed security Goblins, 'for security', I had been assured. To my right, on a side table was a cup of poisoned tea in a delicate china cup. The ring identified the toxins and my environmental shield filtered them out as I drank.

It appeared that my immunity to their poison was alarming to the Bank Manager, though he didn't mention it. The Ring's analysis suggested that the poison wasn't intended to do me any real harm, but to cause gastric distress. It was either a tool for aggressive negotiation, or the Goblin version of a prank.

"Is the purity a problem?" I asked innocently, sipping at my tea. In all honesty, it never occurred to me to have the ring introduce impurities into the gold.

"A problem?" the technician gasped incredulously. "In the history of the bank, we've never had gold this pure, our artisans will…"

"That will be quite enough," Ragnak interrupted the technician. "You are dismissed."

The Bank Manager waited until the technician had left his office before speaking again. "Who are you, Human?"

"As I said when I introduced myself, I am Harry Potter," I said with a nod.

ALERT: The ring spoke in my head. GOBLIN WARRIORS ARE PREPARING FOR VIOLENCE.

"Understood," I subvocalized. "Prepare for defensive response."

"And who knows you are here, Harry Potter," Ragnak sneered.

"Oh, no one," I admitted.

"So, if you were to disappear, no one would know about all this gold," he continued.

"True enough, I suppose," I agreed. "So, tell me, Bank Manager, is your second well trained?"

"What?" the Bank Manager demanded, "Why would you ask that?"

"Well," I sighed, "if I'm forced to kill you, I would feel bad if I left your people without adequate leadership, and myself without someone to negotiate with who is capable of recognizing a deal of a lifetime when he sees one."

Behind me the trio of Security Goblins move, blades out seeking to end me, I allowed the ring to deal with the threat. As the blades bit into my environmental shield, each of the armored Goblins were snatched from the ground and flung into the stone walls of the chamber. Their impacts were carefully calibrated by the ring to be hard enough to stun, but not enough to kill.

"So, tell me, Bank Manager, do we need to call for your second?" I asked reasonably. "I envision this as being the first of several annual deposits. It is difficult to deal in raw gold in the Muggle world; I was so hoping to be able to count on Gringotts' legendary discretion…"

oooOOOooo

I signaled the barmaid for another drink by holding up my nearly empty pint before returning to my misery.

A bookstore.

Despite the depression I was feeling, I couldn't help but smile, Hermione Granger worked in a bookstore. Somehow, I knew that she had ambitions far beyond this little hole in the wall book sellers, but she also seemed to be more at home than I had ever seen her.

I had been wrapped in Death's Cloak not five feet from her, wondering if I should leave the shop so that I could return visibly and meet my best friend for the first time.

I didn't, of course, no more than I had when I tried to approach Ron at his work. When it finally came down to it, I hadn't had a clue what to say, so I just watched him digging a trench for a while before using a switching spell to put 500 pounds into his inside jacket pocket without his noticing.

I was insanely flush, so why not? Hopefully he had fun with it when he found it.

And then, I lacked the balls to approach Hermione. How pathetically typical.

A new pint appeared in front of me, grasped in a large hand connected to a massive arm. "If you're thinking about starting any trouble, just leave now," a quite familiar voice said quietly.

I looked up and into the eyes of Neville Longbottom. My own eyes widened when I noticed this version of my old friend was sporting the most amazing 'porn' mustache I'd ever seen outside of Dean Thomas' collection of 'art' magazines. I guess my surprise showed on my face because he continued.

"I know you're a wizard," he said as his massive right hand released the full pint and removed my empty glass with his equally large left. "You so much a think about pulling your wand, I'll shove it up your arse before I see how far I can throw you into the street.

"You're also a wizard," I responded in similar tones. "Not looking for trouble, just in for a drink."

Neville's eyes narrowed as if he were taking my worth. "Muggleborn?"

"Close enough," Harry smiled, wondering if the mustache on this version of his friend's face was intentional.

"Last wizard who came in here was looking to Imperius a few birds for a party," Neville explained. "I broke both his arms before I handed him over to the Aurors. The only wizard who pulls birds in this bar is me."

"I'll remember that," I said.

Neville moved away to serve another customer, this one a young woman. I watched as his body language shifted from angry defender to charming protector.

More than Weasleys without magic, more than Hermione working at a bookseller's, more than anything else, Neville the hound drove home just how different this world was.

oooOOOooo

Neville flicked on the lights of the pub, causing the locals to protest while shading their eyes from the brightness.

"Last call was fifteen minutes ago, lads," Neville called out, "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

A few halfhearted protests were issued in a perfunctory manner, suggesting that they were the usual responses. I watched as everyone filed out, and the bar staff went about their clean up routines.

"I can finish this ladies," Neville called after all the tables had been wiped clean.

"Are you sure Neville?" the pretty blonde who had been working as a waitress asked.

"Unless you want me to walk you home, Mavis," Longbottom said with a leer.

"Oh, no," she said with a shake of her head. "I made that mistake once, Mr. One Night Stand."

"Good night Neville," the Brunette who had been behind the bar with Neville all night said when she hooked her arm through Mavis' and led the other woman out of the bar.

Neville locked the door behind them before turning to me. "Your Notice-Me-Not really sucks, I could see you all night."

"Muggle avoidance charm," I corrected him. "Not a Notice-Me-Not. I was intrigued by the idea of a wizard working as a bartender in a Muggle bar. I thought I'd stick around and ask why you were doing it."

"My life is none of your business," he said.

"A fact I fully acknowledge," I said agreeably. "Still, it doesn't hurt to ask."

Neville looked at me curiously. "Who are you? You look to be my age, and you're clearly English, why don't I know you?"

"Muggleborn," I lied. "My birth parents died when I was still in nappies, I grew up with my mother's sister and her husband. He's in the Foreign Service, so we travelled the world. When my magic showed up, I picked up a few things here and there. I've got a German wand, studied with a Brazilian tutor, and just generally got along. My uncle retired last year, and I'm trying to make my own way in life, and wanted to try to connect with the wizards of Britain… at least for a while." I grinned at the much larger man. "That's my story, what's yours?"

Neville returned my grin. "Leety?"

A house elf appeared with a pop, the small creature wore a blouse bearing the Longbottom family crest. "Yes Master Neville?"

"Leety, a quick clean up in here, please, call Kolly for help if you need it."

"Oh, Master Neville," the Elf's eyes gleaming in gratitude, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. Leety knows he must not been seen."

It was nice to see somethings didn't change.

"Potter," Neville said after the elf disappeared into a rampaging vortex of cleaning, "I have no idea why, but I trust you. Let's go to my flat, and I'll explain my plans to you."

Then he put his right hand on my shoulder and we twisted into nowhere.

I absolutely hate apparation.

oooOOOooo

"The plan is simple really," Neville explained.

His flat was surprisingly spacious. I'm not really sure what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. Upon arriving, Nev had shoved a drink in my hand, and started with his story. Evidently, he had just been waiting for someone to ask.

"The best plans usually are," I nodded.

"It all came to me the summer after 6th year," he continued. "I visited a Muggleborn friend for a few days and we went to see if we could pull a few birds and Dean took me to a pub."

"Dean?" I asked.

"Dean Thomas," Neville supplied, "a fellow Gryffindor. We'd been to the pubs in Hogsmeade of course; the Three Broomsticks and the Hog's Head, but I'd never seen anything like Dean's local. So many different spirits mixed in so many different combinations, and so many women," he shook his head. "I knew I'd found my calling."

"No family obligations?" I asked. "I've heard of the Longbottom's, you're an old important family aren't you?"

"That's my Dad's problem," Neville laughed. "He's only in his 40s, he's got at least another Century in him, so I can have my fun. I've been working at the pub for almost a year and a half, I started sweeping up, and learned to tend bar. I'll be a manager inside of another two years, and then in two more, I'll have the business learned front to back."

"And beyond that?"

"I buy the Hog's Head," Neville laughed. "Alberforth has been making noises about retiring for years. I bring in Muggle booze, and sell the mixed drinks I've learned here, giving them appropriate magical names of course. Then I train myself some bartenders, and then spend my time introducing a whole collection of Hogwarts girls to the mysteries of sex, with a new set each year."

I drained my drink. "Neville, that has to be the best thought out plan for getting laid in the history of mankind."

"Ain't I something?" He agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

Death's Knight: Revisited

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and constitutes no claim on the personalities or ideas incorporated in the Harry Potter series or those of the DC Universe contained within.

A/N: The following AU story is best understood if you are familiar with the mainstream comics of the DC Universe as well as the story of Harry Potter. If you aren't a fan of DC, or dislike comics, this probably isn't the story for you. Ideas being used come from Green Lantern, Sandman, World's Finest (The New 52 Universe, and the mind of Heather Sinclair. This universe differs greatly from the one you may be used to, be it the comics, movies or animated features. This story begins a year after the inception of the New 52, and merges with the post Voldemort world of Harry Potter.

This tale is inspired by Heather Sinclair's wonderful Death's Knight Story, and is being retold with her permission

Chapter 3 –

The hero's fist smashed into my nose, breaking it.

That was the moment I learned that Dudley never really learned to punch. Blood gushed from my ruined nose, and the rooftop rushed up to meet me.

I'd never really understood the saying that no good deed goes unpunished before. In that moment, the meaning became crystal clear to me.

oooOOOooo

Thursday 30 September, 1999

Four months earlier:

Power Ring flight simply cannot be described. My first flight on a school broom had been a freedom I'd never experienced. Flying on my Nimbus amplified that feeling beyond my understanding. Banking into that first turn on my Firebolt had shown me that I'd never really flown before.

High in the sky over Scotland flying by no more than the application of my will and the power of Death's Ring proved that I had been blind before. There was absolutely no comparison between Power Ring flight and riding a broom.

Still, I realized as Hogwarts came into sight, responsibility came before recreation. I landed at the gates to the School, Death's cloak shifting from the black and silver 'uniform' that it defaulted to when I was actively using the ring to a set of robes.

The gates were closed and locked. Breaching the gate (and the wards) would require no effort at all on my part, but in as much as I was here for a meeting, and that bit of rudeness would likely not be appreciated.

I ended up waiting for three minutes outside the gates, wondering just who would be letting me onto the grounds. So very much had changed, would Hagrid still be here?

The answer to that question had to wait, as the old man himself suddenly appeared in a sheet of flame courtesy of his phoenix… who did not appear to be Fawkes.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said in way of greeting as he opened the gates. "So good to see you."

"And you, Headmaster," I responded. "You didn't need to come out yourself to greet me."

"Again, beings of great power," he said, his eyes twinkling, "suddenly appearing near Hogwarts always receive my immediate attention. Even if they appear to arrive through flight."

"Flight?" I echoed. I wondered if the Dumbledore of my world had been as on the ball as this one was. He did have the reputation, but I had never seen this level of sheer competence.

"I notice that you do not appear to have a broom, Mr. Potter," the old man noted.

"A broom?" I echoed. "No, not for a while now. I had an old favorite broom damaged beyond repair in an accident, and haven't been able to bring myself to replace it."

"Hmm, how peculiar," he spent a few seconds staring at me before continuing. "Let us away to the castle, shall we? We have our meeting to get out of the way, after all."

I had made a mistake. I had presented myself to Albus Dumbledore as something of a puzzle. One never presented a puzzle to Albus Dumbledore if one didn't want his undivided attention.

oooOOOooo

Forty minutes later, and the Potter Scholarship for Muggleborn, Half Bloods, Magical Creatures and Really Skint Pure Bloods was established and funded for the upcoming school year. Dismissed by the Headmaster, I was following the Head Girl through the halls of Hogwarts while pretending to not know the way.

Evidently, there was a certain novelty to escorting a stranger through the school, because Miss Cooper was leading me on the most roundabout route possible, clearly wanting to know who I was and what I was doing at the school, but unwilling to ask.

For some reason I found that hilarious. But I did my best not to show it, concentrating instead on trying to remember if there had been a version of this girl in the original universe. I tried to recall the Ravenclaws from the year behind Luna but was coming up empty. In all honesty, unless they played Quidditch, or were friends with Luna or Hermione, I didn't know many of the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs from my time at the school.

That, I found to be a bit pathetic, and resolved to do better. I resolved to grow a pair and reconnect with Hermione and Ron. And Maybe Luna, if she exists. Of all the people I knew, Luna is the one who would accept my story without question.

If I dared tell it.

Finally, we arrived at the library. The young Miss Cooper held the door open for me, and I was almost laughing again. I was only two years older than she was, why was I thinking of her as being 'young'?

"Miss Abbott?"

I looked around wondering what had happened to Madam Pince when I found myself looking Hannah Abbott right in the eye.

"Well, hello," she said in that quiet tone of a librarian.

"Miss Abbott," Miss Cooper said in a happy positive tone, "This is Mr. Potter, the Headmaster asked that I escort him here to introduce Mr. Potter to you and Mr. Filch."

Filch? The mention of the school's caretaker took me by surprise. I wondered why Dumbledore had thought I wanted to meet that miserable old bastard?

"Who are you?" the unmistakable voice of Argus Filch rang out. "And what are you doing in my library?"

I don't think I'll ever forget the shock of discovering Argus Filch was the Hogwarts librarian.

With rules. Oh, Merlin, so many rules.

oooOOOooo

Wednesday 6 October, 1999

It appeared that the Ring had been right. The North Atlantic harvester construct was surrounded by a full dozen armored warriors.

So much for my 'nothing will bother it two miles down' theory.

The soldiers turned away from the construct to face a of pair new arrivals. One was wearing a form of armor as well, but not the same as the others. Where the original dozen warriors were clad head to toe in a blue-ish almost crustacean-like armor, the tall blond newcomer was wearing some sort of golden chainmail on his upper body and dark green trousers and gauntlets. In one hand he held a golden trident that was taller than he was. The second newcomer was short and pudgy, wearing some kind of robe that actually flowed in the currents.

The truly amazing thing was that neither of them were wearing any sort of breathing apparatus. Two miles beneath the surface. Well neither was I, but I had a Power Ring, while they did not.

To say that this was odd would be something of an understatement. Strangely distorted sounds started reaching me reminding me of the merfolk's song from the Egg during the Triwizard tournament, and I realized that these strange beings were talking.

"Ring, provide translation," I subvocalized.

COMPLIANCE:

"… seem to be doing anything," the tall blond was saying. "Vulko, what do you make of it?"

"I have no idea what this… construct is doing, My King," the chubby advisor responded, "but it is doing something. Water is entering the structure at the top and exiting here," he said with a gesture. "I can detect no meaningful differences between the input and the output, the construct is not changing the temperature of the water around it, nor the salinity. I am at a loss as to what it does."

Well, if nothing else, that was my cue.

"Ring, full translation, make sure they can understand me." I ordered.

COMPLIANCE:

"Greetings," I called out. "The construct is mine, I can explain its function is you would like. May I approach?"

As one, the warriors and their king pivoted to face me, while the chubby one, Vulko, who I took to be some kind of advisor reacted in shock that someone would be so close undetected. I kept my arms out from my body with my hands open, showing that I held no weapons.

If they turned out to be aggressively hostile and didn't recognize my Ring as a weapon, well, that would hardly be my fault, would it?

"Identify yourself," the sea King demanded.

"My name is Harry Potter," I answered. "My apologies, your Majesty, I had no idea that your kingdom was nearby when I setup my collector. I can move it if you like."

"The oceans of the entire world are my domain," the blond responded. "By what right do you pollute my waters with your machine?"

"Might I approach," I asked, "or are we going to continue to shout at each other over the distance?"

"You may approach, Harry Potter," the big man said.

I did as I was instructed, coming to within two meters of the blond king before stopping. As a side note, walking underwater was an odd experience.

Have I mentioned that I never learned to swim?

Once I stopped, the Sea King's troops surrounded us, their weapons at the ready. Unbidden, the Ring filled my mind with tactical options for dealing with them.

I was really starting to love the Ring. If only I'd had it when I was fighting Tommy and his boys.

"In all honesty," I said calmly, "I find the concept of anyone claiming dominion over the entire world Sea to be a bit… odd. Has this claim been adjudicated anywhere, or is it simply a traditional claim?"

"You are a surface dweller," the King noted. "Your hair, your clothing are… dry. How?"

"Ring, identify this person," I instructed silently.

COMPLIANCE: KING ORIN OF ATLANTIS, the Ring responded. BIRTH NAME: ARTHUR CURRY. SPECIES: ATLANTEAN-HUMAN HYBRID. META-HUMAN POWERS: SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH, STAMINA, ENDURANCE, DURABILITY, REFLEXES, AGILITY, SENSES, AND HEALING ALL ATTRIBUTABLE TO THE SUBJECT'S ATLANTEAN HERITAGE. THE SUBJECT ALSO EXHIBITS BROADSPECTRUM MULTISPECIES TELEPATHY WHICH APPEARS TO BE A META ABILTIY. THE TRIDENT HE CARRIES IS AN OBJECT OF GREAT ARCANE POWER. FOUNDING MEMBER OF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE.

I twisted my raised left hand to display Death's Ring. "As several reputable commentators have noted, Power Rings are awesome."

Curry's eyes widened and he took a step back from me. "A Black Lantern!" he hissed.

"Nope," I said, spreading the fingers of both my hands, palm open. "Black Power Ring, not a Black Lantern. I can see how you might make that mistake, but beyond having a black Power Ring, I have nothing in common with the Black Lanterns. I'm alive for one thing, and I have no desire for universal conquest for another."

Curry narrowed his eyes now that the shock of seeing my ring had passed, "Why are you here, Harry Potter, and why did you place this… machine in my domain?"

"I'm here because your people tripped a proximity alarm on my harvester," I explained.

"Harvester?" Vulko interrupted. "What is it harvesting?"

"Gold."

"Gold?" Vulko asked. "There is no gold here."

"That's where you're wrong," Harry grinned. "There is gold everywhere around us. The seawater contains on average one milligram of gold per tonne of seawater."

"You're talking about dissolved solids?" Vulko asked.

"Why would you bother constructing your machine for such a tiny amount of gold?" Curry interrupted.

"Ah, it's a tiny amount per tonne, but by running constantly, this harvester will produce 400 kilograms today," I pointed out, inordinately pleased that I wasn't the only one who hadn't known about gold being dissolved in seawater.

The Sea King looked to his advisor, confusion clear in his expression. Vulko appeared to be doing some calculations in his head before nodding in affirmation of what I had said.

"Why?" Curry asked.

"I was given this Ring and a mission by a higher power," I explained. "It's an important mission that evidently only I can do, and it badly needs to be done, but in the meantime, the job doesn't exactly come with a pay check. This is my solution. The first day's harvest set me up for the foreseeable future, so the harvesters are just sort of ticking over now."

"Harvesters?" Curry asked sharply. "More than one?"

"Six," I said, "spread evenly through the world sea. You know it seems to me that we could make a deal."

"A deal?" Curry asked.

"Call it a lease if you like. It occurs to me that I only need to run my harvesters for my needs for a day every year or so. Looking at your soldiers' armor, and comparing it to your own, it seems that your society might be a little metal poor."

"What are you saying?" Vulko asked.

"It wouldn't be difficult for me to adjust my harvesters to produce the metals you need… iron, titanium, aluminium, zinc…"

"What kind of quantities are we talking about?" Vulko interrupted.

"Perhaps," Curry interjected, "we should move these discussions to a more… controlled environment."

oooOOOooo

Friday 8 October, 1999

I came away from my negotiations with the Atlanteans with two realizations. The first being that I liked making a deal more than I like fighting. I could tell that Arthur Curry really didn't want my harvesters in the ocean, but he wanted the metals I offered more.

The second thing I realized was that I needed to practice more with the ring. Asking it to how to do something had been working for me so far, but wouldn't work in a fight. I had no illusions that the Black Lanterns would be as open to negotiation as King Arthur (Ha!) had been.

Then I started wondering if this underwater civilization was related to the Atlantis that I had been taught was the source of magic in anyway.

That wasn't something I was ever likely to figure out, being in a whole new universe and all.

Practicing with the Ring was what brought me to an old overgrown manor house. The Beaudesert in Staffordshire. I had been sitting in the Hogwarts Library, finding myself distracted from my studies by memories of seeing Hermione with what could possibly be the very book I was taking notes from and wishing I could share these old texts with her like we used to, when I recalled a lesson from Little Whinging Primary.

Association is an odd thing. One of the teachers had been a devotee of the old manor houses of the aristocracy. She told us of the nation's collection of Ancestral homes, and how many of them had fallen onto hard times with the end of the Victorian era, with many of them being involved in catastrophic fires.

It had taken the ring most of an hour to find a suitable candidate. The Ring had informed me that this particular house was almost as old as Hogwarts, starting as a monastery in the 1100s, before becoming a hunting lodge for the local bishop. Then when Henry VII turned away from Catholicism, the land was confiscated and the manor house was built. The manor was ultimately lost to a fire in 1909.

Among the items listed as lost on the tax records was a massive library of 'antique books' which is what brought me to the site. Here, I could practice with the ring, workout with my magic, and build an excuse to make contact with the Hermione Granger of this new reality.

I played the beam emanating from Death's Ring over the remains of the ancient house willing it to find the remains of books. It took less than three minutes for the first sign of bindings were detected.

Then I started the hard part. Combining the power of Death's Ring and my magic. The black beam encapsulated all of the remains of a single tome that remained after almost a century of being exposed to the elements after the fire that destroyed the house, lifting it from where it had lain all these years.

I gripped the Elder Wand in my right hand and aimed it down the beam, casting Reparo with everything I had, while instructing the ring to fill in the missing parts as needed.

I couldn't help but smile when an old book began to assemble itself before my eyes.

oooOOOooo

Monday 11 October, 1999

"Excuse me, Miss?" I said.

Hermione Granger looked up from the book she was cataloging, without the slightest sign of recognition in her eyes. That broke my heart a little bit.

"Can I help you?"

"I hope so," I said with a grin. "My gran passed last year and left me some books. I think they're kind of old, and was wondering if they might be worth anything."

The young woman wearing the face of my best friend smiled kindly. The sort of smile one offered someone who thinks last year's mass market best seller might be worth something. She accepted the folio from me and opened it to gently remove the contents.

Upon seeing the volumes the folio contained, her eyes widened and she paled.

"Mr. Seevers?" She called out hesitantly.

"Yes, Hermione?" the Bookseller answered from what I assumed to be his office.

"I think you might want to see this," she said nervously.

"Is there a problem Miss?" I asked innocently.

"Something special Hermio…" Chester Seevers, a balding man in his mid 70s, left his office, coming into the shop proper and spotting the tome Hermione cradled in her hands. "Atlas Novus?" the old man gasped, removing the book from Hermione's hands and placing it delicately onto the counter. "sine tabulae geographica." He looked up to meet my gaze. "The 1736 edition. Where did you find this?"

"My Gran passed last year," I repeated. "She left me her books because I'm the only reader in the family. These three didn't seem to be the kind of book you just have around to read, so I thought I'd see if they're worth anything."

"Three?" the bookseller echoed, looking to the folio and gently removing the black spined book. "An 1898 Wisden?" he gasped. "The spine is perfect, the bindings, intact… the covers…" he looked up in awe. "This is an amazing find."

"Really?" I asked. "I knew it was old, but I never thought that a 'Cricketer's almanac', whatever that is, would be valuable."

The third book clearly took Seever's breath away.

oooOOOooo

"Never heard of him," Neville said over the beat of the music as he pushed the bowl of peanuts across the table toward me. "This Shakespeare bloke is a big deal then?"

"You might say that," I laughed. "Some people say that he is the root of all English literature. His First Folio from 1622 was a great find."

"1622? That's not even four hundred years old," Neville pointed out taking a long pull from his pint. "The library back at Longbottom Lodge had piles of books older than that."

"I don't think you could get away with selling books about magic to the Muggles, Nev," I pointed out. "The Bookseller has taken all three books on consignment, if recent prices stand up, I'm looking at something like two million for my cut."

"Pounds or Galleons?" Neville asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Pounds," I grinned.

"Eh, cash is cash," he shrugged. "I guess that means you're paying tonight, since you're so flush."

The song ended and the dancer made her way off the stage. The first notes of a new song blasted from the club's sound system. I recognized the song as the Eagles' Witchy Woman, and a new dancer was strutting her way toward the pole.

"This is the girl I was telling you about," Neville shouted.

I looked up and was shocked to see Daphne Greengrass, dressed in a stereotypical Witches' costume, looking directly at me and offering me a wink before starting her dance routine.

"Hard to believe she's a Hogwarts graduate," Neville laughed, stroking his porn-stache and signaling the waitress for a refill. "Would you look at those tits?"

It was hard to look at anything else.

"If I'd had a clue what she was hiding under her robes, I'd have been all over her," Neville continued as Daphne abandoned her dancing and mounted the pole.

I had never been so jealous of an inanimate object in my entire life. Daphne shed pieces of her costume as she revolved about the pole.

"Why would a witch decide to be a stripper?" I asked Neville, never taking my eyes off the girl.

"Same reason most girls decide to be strippers," Neville laughed. "Money. She makes more here in a night than she would in a month working at her father's business."

I looked to my left to stare at Neville incredulously, but my response was stifled by the bra that arced through the air to land on my face.

I badly needed to find a girlfriend.

oooOOOooo

Wednesday 8 December, 1999

"A moment of your time, Mr. Potter?"

I stopped on the stairs and made sure the Ring was defending my mind before turning to face Dumbledore. "What can I do for you Headmaster?"

"I was hoping for a chance to review your progress," he said, the ever-present twinkle in his eye as he put a hand in the small of my back, guiding me in the direction of his office. "And perhaps discuss our hobbies. I've recently taken an interest in jewelry for example…"

Yep… I'd made myself a puzzle for Albus Dumbledore.

oooOOOooo

Saturday 1 January, 2000

I woke to find a naked woman on top of me, kissing my neck. Correction: A naked Hannah Abbott on top of me, kissing my neck.

It had started simply enough. Hannah had been quite helpful in my research of the spell work I was anticipating needing on my impending quest, and all the hype for the New Year celebration for the 'Millennium' had been building for a while (even though I could always hear Hermione in my head protesting that the millennium wouldn't end for another year yet), so I invited Hannah out for dinner and drinks to celebrate.

Dinner was fun, drinking got the evening started, then we were dancing, then came midnight, and we kissed on the dancefloor in celebration of the achievement of being alive at that particular moment.

And then the party really got going.

It was four am by the time we got back to my flat. Hannah didn't blink when I hailed a cab, rather she decided to take full advantage of the room a London cab offered. She straddled me, and spent the entire ride grinding against me to the unending amusement of the cabbie.

We left a trail of clothing between my flat's door and my bed. Then the details got a bit fuzzy until I woke up.

"Oh, good," Hannah said when she came up for air, "You're awake."

Before I could say anything, she pulled her wand from beneath her pillow, stuck the tip between my lips and murmured a spell. Instantly my mouth no longer tasted like an uncleaned cat box. "Are you up to another go?" she asked.

"Anything for the lady," I grinned, cupping her arse. "Since she's asking so nicely, I mean."

"Will you, you know," she whispered nuzzling her lips next to my right ear, "do that thing again?"

"Thing again?" I asked.

"It was like you were vibrating," she shivered at the memory.

"Ring," I subvocalized, "did you do anything to me to improve my sexual technique?"

CONFIRMATION: the Ring responded. RINGBEARER WISHED TO PERFORM OPTIMALLY AND DIRECTED THIS UNIT TO ASSIST. I PROVIDED ASSISTANCE IN ASSURING OPTIMAL FEMALE ORGASM IN ORDER TO ENSURE FERTILIZATION.

"Fertilization?" I asked. "Is she…"

NEGATIVE, the Ring answered, IT IS THE WRONG PERIOD OF THE FEMALE'S CYCLE. THIS UNIT TOOK THE SESSION TO BE PRACTICE.

"I think," I said out loud that I might be able to do 'that thing' again…"

"Ring," I instructed. "Time to practice."

COMPLIANCE:

oooOOOooo

Tuesday 11 January, 2000

ALERT: BLACK RINGS DETECTED.

I looked up from my notes on elemental transmutation when the Ring made its report. "How many Ring Users, and Where are they?" I subvocalized.

SIX DISTINCT RING BEARERS HAVE ENTERED TERRA'S ATMOSPHERE AND ARE DESCENDING UPON NORTH AMERICA. The Ring responded. MOST LIKELY DESTINATION: METROPOLIS.

I began to gather my notes. Metropolis. That meant I was likely going to come into contact with Superman. Not the one who tried to kill me, of course, the younger one. The one from this Universe.

I didn't really hold the actions of his dimensional doppelganger against him. At least not much. But in my exercises with learning to use the Ring, I'd avoided travelling to the U. S. specifically to avoid coming into contact with the Kryptonian. It looked like that was no longer an option. I might be on 'vacation' but the elimination of the Black Lanterns was my first responsibility.

"Leaving us already?" Hannah asked innocently. She had been so very attentive since we had begun to date.

"I just remembered an appointment," I explained quietly as I moved to reshelf the books I had been using.

"See you tonight?" she asked, reaching out to assist me in finding the correct place on the shelf.

"I honestly don't know when I'll be done," I answered, my hand lightly brushing against hers, "but I'll try."

As I exited the Library, earning a look of loathing from Filch, the Ring offered an update.

CONFIRMATION: DEATH RING BEARERS HAVE CONVERGED ON METROPOLIS AND ARE CURRENTLY CONFRONTING KRYPTONIAN DESIGNATED SUPERMAN.

That did not bode well. One on one, Superman could offer any of the Black Lanterns a fair fight. Six on one… well, at least they couldn't generate any more rings.

I made my way out of the Castle, weaving my way through the students in the halls since classes were out for the day. After all this time, my presence in the school was subject of many rumors, the latest being that I was 'Miss Abbott's' lover.

Which I suppose I was.

ALERT: KRYPTONIAN DESIGNATED SUPERMAN HAS BEEN JOINED IN THE BATTLE AGAINST THE BLACK LANTERNS BY METAHUMAN ORGANIZATION DESIGNATED JUSTICE LEAGUE.

That was fast I mused. It had been less than three minutes since I had received the initial alert. "How did they arrive so quickly?" I asked the ring.

MATTER TRANSFER FROM THE ORBITAL HEADQUARTERS DESIGNATED WATCHTOWER.

Matter transfer? I wondered if the heroes of my original universe had Star Trek transporters like that. Putting that thought aside, I exited the castle, only to find more students out on the grounds enjoying each other's company and the sun set. The sun sets early in Scotland in October, but there were always those willing to be out of doors as long as the weather allowed it.

This forced me to make my way to the gates. Simply disappearing where I might be seen was a bad idea. I rushed to the gates without running, moving as quickly as possible, covertly shoving the items I carried into the Ring's subspace storage.

Finally reaching the gates, I passed through them, utterly unsurprised when they closed behind me. With a thought, Death's Cloak warped from the illusion of wizards robes to the black formfitting outfit Death had originally gifted me with, her silver Ankh shining on my chest… or it would be if I hadn't gone invisible with the shift.

A lot of time and practice had gone into making shifting from the cloak's Robes mode to uniform mode look like apparation. Since attracting Dumbledore's attention it only seemed prudent. It seemed that I had made the right decision, for as soon as I vanished from sight, the Headmaster stepped from behind an illusion near the gates, a thoughtful look on his face.

Something to worry about later, I decided as I had the Ring fold space and time to place me over the fight taking place in Metropolis.

oooOOOooo

"Ring," I directed, "identify combatants."

COMPLIANCE: the Ring responded.

DESIGNATION MEMBERS OF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE

SUPERMAN: the man in red and blue grappling with an alien Black Lantern highlighted in my vision. SPECIES: KRYPTONIAN. SOLAR POWERED, EXTREMELY STRONG, EXTREMELY FAST, EXTREMELY RESILIANT. BROAD RANGE OF META POWERS. VULNERABILITIES: SOLAR RADIATION IN THE RED GIANT BAND. KRYPONITE RADIATION. MAGIC.

THREAT LEVEL: HIGH.

CYBORG: the machine man spraying what the Ring's heads up display identified as an 'Ultrasound projector' at a humanoid Black Lantern lit up.

SPECIES: HUMAN/MACHINE HYBRID. EXTREMELY STRONG, FAST, SOMEWHAT RESILIENT. CAPABLE OF SUBORNING ALMOST ANY MACHINE. VULNERABILITIES: KINETIC IMPACT, EXTREME TEMPERATURES, MAGIC.

THREAT LEVEL: HIGH.

WONDERWOMAN: the sole woman among the heroes highlighted in my vision. She was actually parrying a Power Ring's beam with her bracelets, somehow redirecting it back at the amorphous Black Lantern she was fighting.

SPECIES: MAGICAL CONSTRUCT.

DIANA OF THEMYSCIRA. HEIR TO QUEEN HIPPOLYTA OF THE AMAZONS.

EXTREME STRENGTH, SPEED, AGILITY, DURABILITY, ENDURANCE AND REFLEXES, LONGEVITY, FLIGHT, HAND-TO-HAND COMBATANT WITHOUT PARALLEL. UTILIZES INDESTRUCTIBLE AMAZONIAN BRACELETS AND THE LASSO OF TRUTH

VULNERABILITIES: KINETIC IMPACT, EXTREME TEMPERATURES, MAGIC. ALSO BINDING HER LIMBS INHIBITS ALL OF HER POWERS.

THREAT LEVEL: EXTREMELY HIGH.

GREEN LANTERN: now it was the man with the green Power Ring wearing the aura. His green beam seemed to cancel out his opponent's black beam utterly. Something to consider.

SPECIES: HUMAN.

UTILIZES A GREEN POWER RING OF OA. WILL BASED CONSTRUCTS.

VULNERABILITIES: WILL CONSTRUCTS VULNERABLE TO FEAR CONSTRUCTS AND THE COLOR YELLOW, MAGIC.

THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE.

FLASH: This hero was moving too quickly for the ring to highlight, so an image of him appeared before me. The hero was battering the Black Lantern he was facing too quickly for the entity to respond. It was only the massive size of the Ring Bearer that kept it in the fight.

SPECIES: HUMAN.

EXTREME SPEED, AGILITY, DURABILITY, ENDURANCE AND REFLEXES

VULNERABILITIES: FEW. SUBJECT'S REACTION TIME RENDER MOST ATTACKS AGAINST HIM POINTLESS. ONLY POSSIBLE ATTACK WOULD BE COMBINED WITH DISTRACTION.

THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME.

BATMAN: A man in a bat themed costume highlighted in my vision. He appeared to be throwing small objects from his belt at the female humanoid Black Lantern who was advancing on him steadily. Her Ring and environmental shield dealing with every weapon he used.

SPECIES: HUMAN.

HIGHLY SKILLED IN HAND-TO-HAND COMBATANT. UTILIZES A WIDE VARIETY OF WEAPONS AND TOOLS.

VULNERABILITIES: NORMAL HUMAN.

THREAT LEVEL: MINIMAL.

I blinked. "Ring, confirm, the Batman has no meta powers or cosmic weapons?"

A stat screen appeared before my eyes, outlining the skillset of the man in the costume.

CONFIRMED: the Ring replied. BASELINE HUMAN.

Bloody hell! What the hell was he doing as a member of the Justice League? "Ring, retrieve Black Rings."

COMPLIANCE:

I watched as inky tendrils snaked from Death's Ring toward the Black Lanterns. Then I noticed that the Female Black Lantern facing the all too human Batman had him pinned against a brick wall and had manifested a blade of black energy to disembowel him.

Without thought I launched myself toward the doomed man, placing my body between the pair. Her blade splashed ineffectually against my environmental shield as I grasped her right wrist in my left hand, looked into her eyes, and recognized the emptiness of death that I saw in Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley family the day all of this started.

On my silent command, the Ring sliced through the Black Lantern's wrist, separating the ring from her body and freeing the woman's soul to once again find its next adventure.

The no longer animated body collapsed at my feet, while the ring tried to fight me from its place on the severed hand. A tendril from Death's Ring encapsulated Necron's proxie and ended the Black Lantern Ring's existence, absorbing the black energy into itself.

Five more rings flew to me, and each was absorbed in turn, reducing the rings themselves to vapor.

My obligation to Death completed for the moment, I turned to the Hero in the fixation on bats.

"Are you alright, Batman?" I extended my hand to help the man to his feet.

The hero's fist smashed into my nose, breaking it.

That was the moment I learned that Dudley never really learned to punch. Blood gushed from my ruined nose, and the rooftop rushed up to meet me.

I'd never really understood the saying that no good deed goes unpunished before. In that moment, the meaning became crystal clear to me.

oooOOOooo

"You fucking bastard," I gasped through the pain and blood, "you broke my fucking nose! Fuck you! See if I save your sorry arse again you ungrateful wanker!"

Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, I could hear Hermione huffing about my language, but I didn't care. That fucking hurt!

I saw Batman's eyes widen when the Elder Wand appeared in my right hand, but didn't really care. "Episkey," I chanted, pointing the wand at my face. A split second of excruciating pain as the nose reassumed its normal shape, and then my nose was suddenly very hot, followed by the sensation of extreme cold. I raised my left hand and touched my nose oh so gingerly. It still hurt, but the bleeding had stopped and I could breathe through it again.

"What the fucking hell is wrong with you?" I demanded, as the Ring informed me that the assembled Justice Leaguers had surrounded me. In response to this, my environmental shield bloomed back into being, and the Ring's tactical suggestions filled my mind. "I save your life and you break my nose."

"You healed yourself easily enough," Wonderwoman noted.

"And so would you if the bloody wanker popped you one without warning," I pointed out. "And if your reputation is in any way accurate you'd show your displeasure by getting all stabby."

"You killed those people," The Green Lantern pointed out, "all to absorb their rings."

"Is this some sort of power struggle among the Black Lanterns?" Flash asked.

"Okay," I said. "First of all, I didn't kill anyone, all of those beings were dead, and reanimated by their Power Rings. When I removed their Rings, I freed their souls. Second, I am not a Black Lantern."

"Black Ring, Black Uniform, and you're not a Black Lantern," The Greenie scoffed. "Pull the other one."

"Look mate," I snarled. These arsehole's attitudes were really getting to me. "The Guardians of Oa don't own green, and Bloody Necron doesn't own black."

"How can you claim those beings were dead?" Superman asked. "The dead don't just get up and walk around."

"Of course they do," I protested. "You're the bloke with all the super senses. Were they breathing? Did their hearts beat? Did they perspire during effort?"

"Who do you work for if not Necron?" Batman demanded.

"I work for Death herself. This isn't a Black Ring," I said holding up my left hand. "It's Death's Ring. She tasked me with ridding the universe of the Black Lanterns and returning the power that Necron stole from her."

"You expect us to believe you are working for some kind of Death god?" Superman asked.

"Oh, for…" I ran my left hand through my hair. "Don't any of you remember fighting the Black Lanterns?" I turned to face Wonderwoman. "You tell him."

"Why should I tell him?" She asked.

"You're Diana of Themyscira," I pointed out. "You've met Hades and been to his realm. You've met and spoken with the animated dead. If there is anyone who should know about Death Gods and the Animated Dead, it's you."

"Greek dead," she said, clearly not believing her own words.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I said exasperated beyond all belief. These people were clearly not going to be reasonable. I set the ring to setting non-fatal, non-injurious, countermeasures against them.

The Leaguers exchanged looks before nodding. "It's an interesting story you weave, but you've killed people, the only place you're going is to prison," the Batman growled.

The Ring activated its countermeasures as the man tried to move, anchoring them all to the rooftop as I shot skyward. The trap wouldn't hold any of the powered individuals long, but long enough.

"I'm not sure what it is about my life that I always seem to be surrounded by overly officious idiots, but it seems the trend continues," I said from my vantage point. "Let us be clear, if I meant you harm, you would be harmed. Let this be an object lesson."

A simple switching charm moved their various costumes to another member until each of them was wearing a costume that rightfully belonged to someone else.

Hilariously, Batman ended up in Wonderwoman's enchanted armored swimsuit… and it turned out the man was so paranoid that under his mask, which had been switched to the Green Lantern, was another mask. I hoped that metal swimsuit chaffed, as my nose still hurt.

Wonderwoman was drowning in Superman's outfit, looking like she wanted to kill me, the Flash was buried under a mound of metal from Cyborg's outer armor, and Superman, now overstuffed into the Flash's red outfit heaved himself free of the ring construct anchoring him in place, just as I folded time and space to return to London.

The look on his face was priceless.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have done the costume switch on them. It was immature, it was cruel, it was abusive, and it was antagonistic…

But Merlin knows, it was funny.


	4. Chapter 4

Death's Knight: Revisited

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and constitutes no claim on the personalities or ideas incorporated in the Harry Potter series or those of the DC Universe contained within.

A/N: The following AU story is best understood if you are familiar with the mainstream comics of the DC Universe as well as the story of Harry Potter. If you aren't a fan of DC, or dislike comics, this probably isn't the story for you. Ideas being used come from Green Lantern, Sandman, World's Finest (The New 52 Universe, and the mind of Heather Sinclair. This universe differs greatly from the one you may be used to, be it the comics, movies or animated features. This story begins a year after the inception of the New 52, and merges with the post Voldemort world of Harry Potter.

This tale is inspired by Heather Sinclair's wonderful Death's Knight Story, and is being retold with her permission

Chapter 4 –

~ interlude ~

Thursday 13 January, 2000

"I really don't see what your problem with him is," Arthur Curry said, leaning back in his chair. "You were fighting Black Lanterns, the kid shows up, ends the fight, going out of his way to save your life Batman, and you all attack him."

"He killed those people," Batman growled.

"Actually," Hal Jordan interrupted, "he didn't. My ring confirms that the Blackies had all been dead for months if not years, kept running by their rings. That's why they all just fell apart when their rings were removed. It looks like this Harry kid was right."

"The fact remains," Superman intoned, "this 'Harry' has far too much power to be allowed to operate without supervision."

"And how much supervision do you have, Clark?" Arthur asked with a smirk. "How much supervision do any of us have?"

"Damn it Arthur," Batman spat. "The boy is clearly delusional. He claims to work for Death."

"And Hal claims to work for some Immortal Guardians on the planet at the center of the Universe as if that were physically possible," Arthur laughed. "We take him at his word. Diana tells us that she's from an island of immortal women warriors and about has told us about personally speaking with the Greek Gods we learned of in Mythology classes, and we take her at her word. I am the hereditary king of the sunken kingdom of Atlantis, as if that makes any sense at all. Barry can move faster than light, which everyone knows is impossible, Victor is fused to an alien computer which both saved his life and built his armor, you're a billionaire who dresses up in a batsuit, and Clark is one of the few survivors of an alien race who was raised in Kansas. Seriously, Bruce, we are a group of the most unlikely individuals anyone could imagine, is Harry Potter really all that more unlikely than any of us?"

Barry Allen reached for his iced tea and took a long pull. "Why are you defending him, Arthur?"

If anything, Curry's grin got wider. "Back in October, one of my people's defense patrols happened upon an unknown device about 200 kilometers northeast of Atlantis, sitting on the ocean floor at a depth of 3200 meters."

"What kind of device?" Barry asked, suddenly quite interested. "Something that could operate at that depth would be…"

"An 'unknown' device," Arthur responded. "That's all they could report, so, as Atlantis' resident expert on the technology of the Surface World, I responded along with Nuidis Vulko, my Science Advisor. When we arrived, we found a metallic cube two meters on a side, taking seawater in and expressing it out without making any apparent changes to the water. This is when Harry introduced himself."

"He just introduced himself two miles down?" Hal asked.

"And told me about his Power Ring, saying that they were 'awesome', and explaining that I could tell he wasn't a Black Lantern as he was still alive and not interested in Universal Conquest," Arthur continued. "I really like the kid, he's got a sense of duty about him that he hides behind a sense of humor. Anyway, he made the machine, and its purpose is to harvest dissolved metals out of seawater."

"What metal was he after?" Batman asked.

"Gold," Aquaman responded.

"Gold?" The Flash choked. "I hope you let him down gently. There is only about a milligram of gold dissolved in a metric ton of seawater."

"He was well aware of that," Arthur nodded. "In fact, he explained it to me. His harvester pulled something like 400 kilograms out of the water every day, and he was running six of them."

"2.4 tons of gold a day, every day?" Hal whistled. "Damn, Bruce, the kid's richer than you."

"No," Arthur said shaking his head. "He only runs his machines for a day every year or so, to finance his operations, because, as he put it, the job didn't come with a paycheck. When he realized that he'd put one of his machines close enough to Atlantis for us to find it, he offered to move it. I did my Ocean King thing and told him I claimed dominion over all the oceans of the world."

"And his response?" Diana asked.

"He actually refrained from laughing, but it was a close thing. I agree with him, it's an absurd claim, but the people of Atlantis expect it. Rather than fight about it, or moving to his second choice, he offered a lease."

"Atlantis needs gold?" Barry asked.

"Well, yes," Arthur admitted. "It's useful in a lot of ways, but more importantly than that, he offered us other metals. From looking at my soldier's armor he determined that, as a society, we were metal poor. He set up his harvesters to producing iron, aluminum, magnesium and several other metals. Then he assisted Vulko in establishing a foundry to produce steel."

"That would be quite the undertaking underwater," Flash noted, his inner scientist peeking out.

"In short, Harry Potter, who you're all so bound and determined to make an enemy out of has done more for Atlantis in three weeks than the rest of the world has since we revealed ourselves to you," Curry concluded. "It's been three years and the UN has yet to recognize us or confirm a trade pact. Potter is a friend of Atlantis and has our protection wherever he travels in our domain."

Superman, Wonder Woman and Green Lantern exchanged glances. The three of them disagreed and had already set into motion plans to find the wielder of the Black Ring, be he a Black Lantern or not.

oooOOOooo

Friday 4 February, 2000

I arrived at Hannah's flat at 8 p.m. The plan was we were to go out to dinner at a restaurant we both liked and then return to her flat for a night together.

My time was running out. Before much longer I was going to have to leave Earth to hunt down the Black Lanterns and Necron. What I had found with Hannah was good, so I wanted to enjoy it to the best of my abilities until it had to end.

Hannah opened the door, clearly not dressed to go out.

"Right on time, Harry, come on in," she smiled her welcome. "Plans have changed, I've fixed dinner for us, and there is someone I'd like you to meet."

This was new. So far in our relationship, it had been just us. I wondered who I was going to meet. She said 'someone', which probably meant it wasn't her parents. "We can save the restaurant for next time," I said as I followed her through the door.

"Harry," Hannah said, "this is Susan Bones, my oldest friend."

"Hello, Harry," Susan said standing up to shake my hand. For a second I had a flashback to my days at Hogwarts when I had assisted a younger version of this girl with casting her Patronus. A rhino as I recalled.

"Hello, Susan," I responded, joining her on the sofa. "Oldest friends? How long have you known each other?"

"Since before we went to school," Susan laughed. "We were both sorted into Hufflepuff House together. Hannah tells me that you're also a wizard, why didn't we see you at Hogwarts?"

"He grew up with a Muggle family," Hannah said bringing a pair of plates into the room and handing them to us before returning to her kitchenette. My plate was laden with an ample helping of shepherd's pie, as was Susan's.

"My parents died while I was still a toddler," I explained sticking with the story I had established with Dumbledore. "I ended up living with my Aunt and Uncle. He was in the Foreign Service and we ended up living all over the world. When my magic showed up, I got tuition wherever we were."

"I can't imagine what losing your parents might be like," Susan said sympathetically.

I couldn't help but be glad this version of my friend hadn't lost her parents.

"So, what do you think?" Hannah asked as she returned to the living room with her own dinner.

"I like him," Susan nodded.

"Thank you," I said, wondering what this was about.

"Good," Hannah nodded. "Harry, Susan is my oldest friend."

"You said that earlier," I pointed out.

"My point is, we've always shared," she continued. "We shared our toys, shared our clothes, and even shared our homework…"

"Sometimes, we even share our boyfriends," Susan interjected helpfully.

"Share?" I asked. Yeah, I'm not really all that quick on the uptake.

"We want to take you to bed, Harry," Hannah explained. "Together, at the same time."

"It will be fun," Susan assured me.

I set my nearly empty plate on the coffee table, and wondered what to say to that.

"Did we shock you, Harry?" Hannah asked.

"Well, yeah," I admitted.

"So, what do you say?" Susan asked.

"Somehow, 'Yippee' doesn't seem strong enough," I grinned.

oooOOOooo

I want to be clear here. At the time, my sexual experience was embarrassingly minimal for someone who was supposedly a hero since he was 18 months old. Two stolen moments in a pair of broom cupboards at Hogwarts with two different girls that involved little more than touching. A 'thank you for saving us' shagging by Tracey Davis when I stopped a couple of Tom's boys from hurting her and her younger sister… afterwards, Tracey made it very clear she was unimpressed with my performance, and that it had been a one-time event which would not be repeated.

And then, of course, my Ring augmented time with Hannah, clearly the best of them all.

So, was I going to argue when Hannah wanted to bring a girlfriend to bed with us? Fuck no, I wasn't.

And when Susan shrugged out of her robes and confirmed all the rumors that had floated about the dorms and Quidditch locker rooms about her breasts and their… monumental size. The two women pulled me onto the bed, pulled my clothing off and began to have their way with me.

So, of course, the Universe noticed that I was having a good time and just had to put a stop to that.

"What do you think you're doing to them?" A familiar voice asked.

I sat up to find myself looking into the shocked face of Diana of Themyscira. To her left was Superman, to her right was the Green Lantern, his Power Ring still glowing from an FTL transition.

The two women sat up on either side of me. The Superman's eyes went wide when he got a full view of Susan's assets, and the Lantern took an involuntary step backwards.

"Oh, my god," he said. "I'm so sorry, I didn't expect to…"

Before I could react myself, both Hannah and Susan's wands were in their hands. I blinked. Where the hell had they been keeping their wands?

"Incarcerous Maximus!" Susan cast, wrapping the three assembled heroes in thick chains.

"Infragilis!" Hannah added, adding the unbreakable charm to the magical chains.

Of the three heroes, only Wonder Woman even tried to move, but the magic was both unexpected and came from people she had no reason to suspect.

"What has he done to you two?" she demanded. "Why would you attack a fellow woman?"

"Diana, shut up," the Green Lantern hissed. "Harry, dude, seriously, I had no idea that you were… busy. Honestly, I'd tear off my own arm before I'd interrupt a threesome. Bro-code forever!"

Bro-code? What the hell was he talking about? Superman was still staring at Susan's breasts and had yet to speak a word. I wasn't sure he had even noticed that he was restrained.

"Stupefy!" I cast, putting the Kryptonian out of my misery. "If word of this gets out, then his enemies will be taking him out of fights by hiring strippers," I noted dryly as Hannah and Susan covered themselves. "What did you three want?"

"To bring you to task for your actions in Metropolis!" Wonder Woman responded.

"So, to avenge my committing no crimes at all, you break and enter into someone's private home?" I asked. "You know, never mind, I don't care what you think, it's probably stupid. Stupefy!"

The Amazon slumped in her chains and I turned my attention to my fellow Power Ring user. "Well?"

"How do these chains work anyway?" he asked, "my Ring doesn't affect them at all."

"Magic," I said with a grin. "Do you know where you are?"

"England," he responded. "One of the towns that end in 'shire' but isn't pronounce 'shire'."

"Close enough," I admitted. "So, you're here because of what I did in Metropolis."

"Yeah," the Lantern nodded.

"And since you wouldn't want to be charged with kidnapping, you of course got those two muscle-heads to submit an extradition request to Her Majesty's Government?" I pressed.

An odd look washed over his masked face. "The Justice League is extra-territorial. The United Nations gives us…"

"None of that allows you to enter someone's home in the dark of the night," I interrupted. "Susan, the redhead is a Police Officer. Susan, are there any warrants out for my arrest?"

"Not as of when I got off shift and my Aunt told me to have a good time," she said helpfully.

"Susan's Aunt Amelia is the head of one of the national police forces," I explained confidentially to the now paling Super Hero. "If there was a warrant out for me, she would know."

"We might have missed a bit of the paperwork," he admitted.

"I thought as much. When you all wake up, could you tell them both something for me?"

"What?" he asked.

"You know of course, this means war."

The Lantern's eyes went wide and he paled before nodding as he got my meaning, before I put him out with a "Stupefy!"

oooOOOooo

"Not that one," Susan protested as she climbed out of the bed and padded to stand next to me. "They'll be awake in an hour with that spell. We want a little time, I think. Sopor Stupefy!" she cast on all three of the bound heroes.

She stepped back to regard her work. "That should last about 10 hours. Plenty of time."

I looked up from where I was charging the chains as a portkey after having linked them. "Plenty of time for what?" I asked when the Superheroes disappeared from Hannah's bedroom to reappear at the site in Metropolis where I first met them.

"I think we had a little party going," Hannah said, wrapping her arms around me from behind."

"Still?" I asked. "Even after all this?"

"Oh, Harry," Susan giggled, joining into the clinch from the front, nuzzling at my neck. "We knew you were a superhero."

That stopped all of my thought processes. "You know I'm a what?"

"Harry," Hannah said, releasing me and pulling me back onto the bed. "You were on the telly when you were in Metropolis. They've been playing it multiple times a day, every day since. Everyone is trying to figure out who the new hero that the Justice League tried to fight was."

"But we knew," Susan said, pulling my face to her breasts. "Or at least Hannah did, and she told me."

"Mum said that a hero with glasses was more dignified than the loonies who wear masks," Hannah explained.

"So, all this," I said extracting my face from Susan's breasts, "is because I put on a stupid outfit and smack people in the face."

"No," Susan said, pulling my face back to where she wanted it, "this is because Hannah said that you were great in bed, and we've always shared our discoveries."

"You putting on a stupid outfit and smacking people in the face means we get to brag about you," Hannah continues as she slid down lower in the bed. "After all, you're the first wand using Wizard Super Hero."

"And you're ours." Susan agreed.

"But you two reacted so quickly to them just appearing in the bedroom, and where were you keeping your wands?" I asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Hannah laughed.

"Harry," Susan said nuzzling at my left ear. "After the Malfoy incident, every girl in Magical Britain learned to react first and ask questions later if someone just suddenly appeared in their bedroom."

'The Malfoy Incident'? What the hell was that? I wondered.

"Old habits die hard," Hannah agreed as she climbed on top of me.

That was when I quit caring.

oooOOOooo

Saturday 5 February, 2000

I returned to reality over the planet Oa. My first long distance Faster Than Light Transition.

Realistically, considering that Oa was supposedly at the center of the universe, I wasn't likely to ever need to travel further than this trip, so, not bad for a first try.

Unfortunately I immediately almost lost my lunch. The sensation of freefall was overpowering. The Ring recognized my distress and made modifications to my inner ear to counter the effects.

Blessed relief flooded through me until I opened my eyes and discovered that I had a touch of vertigo. After a bit of experimentation, I found that if I generated a platform to stand on, the vertigo was diminished.

Now all I needed was for one of the inhabitants of Oa to notice I was there.

So, I waited. I had appeared over Oa well above the atmosphere for a reason. That reason is that I thought that just appearing before the Guardians of Oa unannounced and uninvited might be taken as rude, and rude wasn't what I was after here.

And, I waited.

After three minutes I was starting to get a bit annoyed. My ring had warned me while the Black Lanterns were still five light seconds away from Earth, and here I am hovering over Oa and no one is paying any attention at all?

"Ring," I said, "could you get their attention, please?"

COMPLIANCE:

Death's Ring issued a single pulse of energy, and that certainly changed things. A dozen beams of green energy blinked into existence focused on me, and more than fifty Green Lantern's rose from the planet's surface to confront me.

oooOOOooo

The green mass of beings massed behind their leader, a huge pink skinned being, with an unmistakable physical presence.

"Ring, identify this being," I directed.

COMPLIANCE:

GREEN LANTERN KILOWOG.

SPECIES: BOLOVAXIAN

UTILIZES A GREEN POWER RING OF OA. WILL BASED CONSTRUCTS.

VULNERABILITIES: WILL CONSTRUCTS VULNERABLE TO FEAR CONSTRUCTS AND THE COLOR YELLOW, MAGIC.

CURRENT POSITION IN THE GREEN CORPS: HEAD TRAINER FOR NEW RECRUITS

THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE.

"Hello Lantern Kilowog," I called out when he approached.

My speaking caused him to stop and raise his left arm, bracing it with his right hand at the wrist. "We don't want you Black Lanterns here," he responded. "Leave, now."

"Not a Lantern," I responded, "Black or otherwise. I do have a Power Ring, but no lantern, no central battery. I'm here to request an audience with the Guardians."

"The Guardians don't see no one," Kilowog barked back.

"Yeah," I nodded, "well, see, you don't get to make that decision. I'm here on official business, one corps to another. One of yours is interfering with the performance of my duties, and no matter how nicely I ask, he won't stop. I don't want to have to kill him in order to do my job."

"Like you could kill a Green Lantern," Kilowog sneered.

I cast an image of the Green Lantern of Earth bound in chains and insensate, in Hannah Abbott's bedroom. "Yeah, I could. Look, could you ask the Guardians if I might have a word?"

oooOOOooo

After a minimal amount of preparation, I was escorted into the huge theater the Guardians of Oa apparently used to interview people. It took a few moments before I realized what it reminded me of.

This was nothing more than a high tech version of Courtroom #10 from the Ministry of Magic. The same high perch for the 'judges' the same pit for the pitiful petitioners to grovel.

All it needed was gas lights, stone walls, and a chair with chains to make me feel all homesick.

"We know who you are, and what you represent," the blue gnome in the center of the dais said in a surprisingly deep voice.

"Excellent," I said agreeably. "Then we can keep this meeting short, I'm sure you're busy beings. Your agent on Earth has taken upon himself, along with some allies to interfere with my efforts. I'm here to ask you to have him to back off out of professional courtesy."

"Earth?" the Guardian in the center asked his fellow to his left.

"Sector 2814," he responded. "What makes you think we would honor a request from you, considering what you represent? We are beyond your master's reach."

I tried not to smile. "Death of the Endless told me that it was likely that I might need to approach you Corps to Corps someday. She also told me of your immortality and laughed."

"Meaning?" the second Guardian asked.

"Meaning that you've mistaken very long lives for immortality." I paused while a protests rippled through the assembled gnomes. "Only the Endless are truly immortal, make peace with that fact, you'll sleep better."

"You speak nonsense," The senior Guardian spat.

"Perhaps," I said with a shrug. "I have been tasked by Death of the Endless with eliminating the Black Lanterns from the universe. Your Lantern 2418 is interfering with that. I am asking you to rein in your agent, should you fail to do so, and he continues to obstruct me, you will need to recruit a new agent."

"Threats?" the second Guardian scoffed.

"A statement of fact," I corrected him. "I have no desire to do this, he is a good man who does good work, and killing him would be a waste of potential. But I will do what I have to do."

The assembled gnomes glowered at me as they discussed their options.

oooOOOooo

Power Rings are, as I've mentioned a time or two before, awesome.

The sheer amount of information that the Ring allows me access to utterly boggles my mind. This access to information is what had me stop on my way back to Earth on a very odd planet. In some ways the civilization it housed was lightyears ahead of anything Earth had even imagined.

In other ways not so much. The marketplace I was searching resembled nothing so much as one of the jumble sales my Aunt Petunia so loved, though this alien society didn't fight over 'bargains' quite as viciously as the suburban housewives of Little Whinging.

There. A dull grey vegetable spice, unpronounceable by anyone with a human mouth and throat, ground to a fine dust. According to the Ring's AI, a pinch of the spice into a bucket of mop water would produce a drink that would have any human crawling over broken glass for more.

The negotiations for a small amount of the spice took most of an hour, with the ring guiding me each step of the way through the ritualized offers and insults until the stall holder and I reached an agreement wherein I got four grams of the spice and he got 10 grams of gold.

I then made my way to a dark alley off the bazaar, where I had the ring fold time and space to put me into my flat's kitchen. I had some work to do.

oooOOOooo

Sunday 6 February, 2000

I hovered four feet over the surf looking up and down the beach. I couldn't see anyone, but again, it would be rude to just barge in. So I set off a flare.

The island had been a bear to find. I'd over flown the area an even dozen times before I surrendered to the inevitable and simply closed my eyes and allowed the Ring to bring me in. It was interesting that the air temperature here near the island was in the mid-20s while a few hundred meters away the air was noticeably colder in the mid-teens.

Part of the enchantment that hid the island? Who knew?

At any rate it was a pleasant wait for the island's defenders to arrive.

A pair of sentries showed up on horseback in less than three minutes. An impressive response time, especially when compared with the Greenies. The pair spotted me long before I would have seen them if the Ring hadn't been amplifying my senses. One of the pair, possibly the senior, dismounted and maintained a watch on me from a distance while the other wheeled about on her mount and headed off in the direction from which they had come.

It took perhaps 20 minutes for the response team to arrive. A Phalanx 10 soldiers wide and 8 deep came into view at a full run. The fact that they maintained their formation while running was impressive enough, but when you add that each of them was clad in a modified Hoplite armor, along with the classical round shield, long spear and sword, it really has to be seen to be believed.

Their leader called for a halt when they were ten meters from me before detaching herself from the formation to approach me.

"Men are not welcome here," she said in what the Ring identified as Classical Greek. "Leave and do not come back."

"I understand and respect your traditions," I responded. "As you can see, I have not come ashore, Captain. I have come to request an audience with your Queen Hippolyta to discuss the transgressions of her daughter toward me."

Anger flared in the woman's eyes, and her hand gripped the hilt of her sword tighter. "You accuse Princess Diana?"

"With all respect, Captain, not to you," I said, wishing I knew more about the culture of the Amazons. "If the Queen will not see me, I will return to the larger world and deal with the situation as I must. I simply hoped to avoid conflict if at all possible."

"Diana is warrior enough to deal with any man," the Captain sneered.

"Perhaps," I commanded the Ring to project a life sized image of Wonder Woman bound in chains in Hannah's bedroom. "And perhaps not, this is the result of the last time she attacked me unprovoked. I would prefer that there not be another time. Would it be possible for you to send a messenger to the Queen with my request?"

oooOOOooo

The formation had become my 'honor guard' and was escorting me into the island's main city, also called Themyscira. It was fairly obvious that my guard were being used to keep me isolated from the people we encountered on our journey, and that most of them were actively looking for an excuse to kill me.

Evidently, men were something of a rarity, so a fair number of spectators lined the route. I even got a fair number of whistles and catcalls that would have made a dockworker blush.

I just kept my head down and ignored them. No sense giving the guards an excuse to do something that I would have to do something about.

The trek to the palace ended with a multistory climb of stone stairs. The Captain of the Guard kept glancing at me as we ascended. I wondered what it was about until she looked down and an expression of anger washed over her face.

That's when it dawned on me, she had been expecting me to tire on the long climb, due to being a weak male, never realizing that I had yet to set foot on the island, instead I was hovering ten centimeters over the pavement, keeping formation with the guards.

I kept my expression neutral, as laughing at her would probably be a poor choice on my part.

We reached the top of the stairs and entered the palace. I was lead through the halls to a large open patio.

There, seated on a wicker throne, was a woman who appeared to be, at most five years older than Diana of Themyscira. Surely this couldn't be…

"I am Hippolyta," she said. "I am told you wish to speak to me about my daughter."

"Forgive me Majesty," I said, bowing at the waist. "Having met your daughter, I was expecting an older woman."

A smile played at her lips. "You are Harry Potter, are you not?"

"I am, Majesty," I answered, wondering when Diana had updated her on our adventures, also if apparition would be inhibited by the spell hiding the island.

"You dressed my daughter in the clothing of a man," she noted.

"Perhaps it was juvenile, Majesty," I said, "but they started it."

"Perhaps you should explain," Hippolyta commanded.

"I have been tasked by Death to rid the universe of the Black Lanterns."

"We know of the Black Lanterns and their foul ambitions. They laid siege to our island for weeks, at great cost. Many times we found ourselves fighting against our own fallen sisters, possessed by those demon rings." The Queen took on a contemplative expression.

"What Death God do you serve?" the blond woman to Hippolyta's left asked. "Hades?"

"No Death God," I said with a shake of my head. "Death herself."

Hippolyta arched an eyebrow at that before turning to the redheaded woman on her right and whispering a command. As the woman left the patio, the Queen returned her attention to me. "Continue."

"I was alerted to the presence of six Black Lanterns in Metropolis, and responded to deal with them," I said, continuing my explanation. "I found Princess Diana and her allies in battle with them. Perhaps it was rude of me to do so, but I interceded in those fights, disabling the Black Lanterns before they detected my presence."

"How did you 'disable' the Ring bearers?" the Blond asked. "We lost many warriors to them."

"I removed their rings," I explained. "It wouldn't have worked if they had been aware of me, but finding them preoccupied by Princess Diana and her… colleagues, I took advantage of their distraction. Removing a Black Lantern's ring removes the force that traps their soul and animates their body."

"Why are you hovering over the floor?" Hippolyta asked.

When in doubt, I decided, tell the truth. "I wasn't sure if there was some prohibition against men 'setting foot' on Themyscira. In my experience, old curses tend to be somewhat literal, so…" I gestured to my boots not touching anything.

"Stop doing it, it's annoying," the Queen directed. "I have no idea where you would have gotten the idea that you wouldn't be allowed to walk on Themyscira. And sit down, have something to eat and drink. I won't have you returning to the world of Men telling stories of our rudeness to guests."

I lowered myself to the floor, and a chair was put in place behind me. As I sat a goblet was shoved into my hand and a platter of something unrecognizable was offered. I hesitated before sitting.

"I thank you for your forbearance, Majesty," I said. "I must admit to know nothing of your culture, however it is a custom of my culture for a visitor to bring gifts." With a broad gesture, I had the Ring withdraw my gift from its subspace storage. Whatever 'subspace' was it was wonderful for storing food. The tray came out with its contents as hot as they had been when they came out of the oven. "It is but a simple baked good, something called Chocolate Chip Biscuits in my home land."

My offering was regarded with suspicion. One of the seemingly younger immortal women stepped forward and took the tray from my hand. She set the tray on a small table between the Queen and me, before hesitantly picking one of the biscuits up and sniffing the aroma.

"Aglea is my food taster," Hippolyta explained.

"If she suffers any illness from your offering," the blond advisor interjected, "you will not leave this room alive."

"I'm not the best cook in the world," I laughed, "but I'm fairly sure that my biscuits won't make her sick."

The food taster seemed satisfied with the scent. I wondered if the Amazons had ever been exposed to chocolate before. She broke off a small piece of the biscuit off with her fingers and touched it to her tongue.

Aglea's eyes went wide and she shoved the biscuit into her mouth, chewing gleefully while reaching for more with both hands.

Hippolyta regarded the actions of her food taster with amazement before reaching for a biscuit herself.

"They're especially good with cold milk," I said helpfully, while wondering if this was true about goats' milk.

oooOOOooo

My peace offering to the Amazons finished, I climbed to orbital altitude.

I'd always heard that one should be wary of Greeks bearing gifts. These particular Greeks should probably been wary of me.

If I was going to be spending time in space I was going to need to learn to deal with weightlessness without losing my lunch, after all.

So… With the Guardians and Queen of the Amazons behind me, that left only Superman to visit a bit of vengeance on. But where the Green Lantern and Wonder Woman both had a leadership to appeal to, Superman was a survivor of a lost planet… the only survivor is he and his older dimensional counterpart had identical backgrounds.

A thought occurred to me there high over the Atlantic Ocean. On Oa, one of the Kilowog let it slip that Earth's Green Lantern's name was Hal Jordan.

Sure, Superman's real name was Kal-L or something like that, but surely he had a life somewhere where he didn't wear his pants on the outside of his trousers. He had to have a place to live where he could just be one of the lads, maybe a local where he got a beer or two.

"Ring," I said, "can you identify the Justice League Member; Superman?"

QUERY: IS FACIAL RECOGNITION SEARCH ACCEPTABLE? The Ring responded.

Honestly not having the slightest clue what 'facial recognition' might be, I simply shrugged and said, "do it."

I left the Ring to its work, and tried to get hold of my vertigo. It was a slow process, but I was lasting longer between bouts of nausea.

After six minutes, the Ring notified me of what it had found, projecting the images into my eyes.

"Glasses?" I asked myself out loud. "He uses glasses as a disguise?"

oooOOOooo

Monday 7 February, 2000

Death's Cloak obligingly provided me with an outfit of a work shirt, denims and work boots as I approached the house at the end of the unpaved track. This was the home of Martha Kent, 58, Widow of Jonathan Kent who had died three years before, mother of Clark Kent, a new-ish newspaper reporter making a name for himself in Metropolis. Oddly, Kent showed up in Metropolis three months before Superman's first appearance and looked quite a bit like the hero when he took his glasses off and wasn't slouching.

The fact that such a simple disguise worked was boggling my mind.

The door opened before I could knock, revealing a white haired woman with piercing blue eyes.

"You're late, I was wondering when you were going to show up," she said simply. "Follow me."

That was… unexpected. Was this woman Kryptonian as well?

oooOOOooo

"I need you to repair the fence," Martha Kent said, pointing to a stretch of wooden uprights and wire mesh that encircled what appeared to be a pasture. "After you've finished that, paint the barn. The paint and supplies are in the shed. If you need me, I'll be in the house, just knock at the back door."

With that, she turned and strode away in the manner of a woman with too much to do, and too little time to do it. I recognized that walk. Hermione had done it all the time.

I looked back and forth between my assigned chores. Clearly, she had been expecting someone else, but as long as I was here…

The Elder wand appeared in my hand. "Saepes reparo," I chanted. While I watched the old fence put itself back together. The rusted wire deoxidized to a shining silver, the wood regrew the portions that had splintered off over the years.

I then turned my attention to the barn. The structure needed much, much, more than a simple repainting. Painting it would be little more than putting a bow on a Blast Ended Skrewt. What the hell was wrong with Superman to allow his family's farm to get to this state?

"Faenile reparo," took care of the structure, and I added "tectum reparo," for good measure. It's always hilarious to see the magic dealing with materials that did not exist when the spell was created, such as the asphalt shingles that the tectum was repairing, but the most important part of any spell is the intent.

Say what you will, but I've always had buckets of intent to call upon when needed. Precisely what I was trying to do often evaded me, but wanting to do it never did. Fortunately, magic makes allowances for the clueless.

One of the many things that had always infuriated Hermione about magic.

A spell pulled the paint from the shed, and another fully coated the barn and shed in seconds. Then a third caused the two structures to dry in seconds.

Satisfied with the completion of my chores, I turned toward the house to find Martha Kent standing behind me with some sort of paperwork in her hand, her mouth hanging open in shock, and she was staring at me as if I was from another world.

Which, in all fairness, I suppose I was.

oooOOOooo

I got the woman back into her house, sitting at the kitchen table while I searched the pantry for some tea. Only teabags, and old ones at that, but better than nothing.

I found a copper kettle, filled it with water from the sink and tapped it with the Elder Wand to bring it to boiling.

Mrs. Kent had a teapot, so I filled it with the boiling water to allow the bags to seep, speeding the act with a bit of magic, then I set a mug full of tea in front of her.

By this time, the woman had found her voice, "I'm guessing you aren't the extra hand that Chip Tollison sent over to give me a hand."

"No, ma'am, I'm not," I admitted.

"Then you're one of… Clark's friends?"

"Friends might be something of an exaggeration," I smiled.

Her eyes hardened. "Don't think you can just come here and threaten me," she spat. "I may not have powers, but I assure you that…"

"Ma'am," I interrupted, "I'm not a villain, I'm not here to threaten you."

"Oh," she said, an embarrassed blush spreading over her cheeks. "I'd been practicing that speech since the first time Clark put on his uniform."

"I'm not affiliated with Superman or the Justice League," I explained. "That being said, I respect them and know they are doing good work. But I have come into a bit of conflict with them, and their actions are interfering with my work."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're the man in black and silver who intruded on the Justice League's capture of those horrible Black Lanterns."

Her reaction to the Black Lanterns caught my attention. Death had said that for most people, memories of the Black Lantern attacks would fade. Be remembered that they had happened, but the specifics would be lost.

But some people would retain pieces of what happened. Was Martha Kent one of those people? The Ring fed me a high speed version of what this poor woman had gone through, attacked and tortured by a dimensional alternate of her son's girlfriend.

"Do you remember the Black Lantern attack on Earth?" I asked.

"No," she whispered, "not really. They were here, then they were gone. Clark and his friends had a big part in making them go. But I dream about it all the time. Horrible dreams, so much death. So much pain. I know I'm dreaming all through them, but I can't wake up."

"Mrs. Kent, my name is Harry Potter," I said having realized that I hadn't told her my name yet, "and like your son, I'm not from this world."

"That should make me suspicious all on its own," she said, a tiny grin forming at the corners of her mouth. "But then, I saw what you did to the Barn."

"The Black Lanterns attacked my home, and they killed everyone I cared about," I continued. "I am now on a mission to find and end the threat of the Black Lanterns so that what happened to my world doesn't happen anywhere else. I have this," I paused to allow Death's Ring to become visible. Upon seeing the Ring, Martha Kent gasped.

"Parts of my Ring used to be a Black Lantern Ring. It was made so that I could destroy them. That's what happened when I faced off against the League. The Black Lanterns themselves are dead, their bodies are animated by the Rings, and their souls are bound to that form as a type of torture. I remove and destroy the rings, which allows the bodies to fall and the souls to be released to their next great adventure."

"The Justice league saw the Lantern's fall lifeless and believed that I had killed them."

"But you didn't?" Martha asked.

"I did not," I assured her. "I am no angel, Mrs. Kent, before all of this, before the Black Lanterns, I fought in a war. I have killed, but I haven't killed any Black Lanterns. I simply removed their Rings and release them."

"So, the source of our conflict is the Justice League's belief that I murdered people," I continued. "By now they've determined that the Black Lanterns have been dead for a while, but they are still after me. Friday night, your son and two of his fellow Justice League members intruded on me while on a date with my new girlfriend."

No sense mentioning two women, I decided.

"A date?" She asked with a sly smile. "What they did made you angry enough to tattle to Clark's mother. They caught you in bed, didn't they?"

"uh…" I paused flabbergasted that she had seen through me.

"You youngsters all seem to think you invented sex," she laughed. "You didn't and nothing you could have been doing was new, not even if you had someone else in bed with the pair of you." Then she saw the look on my face. "You did!"

"With Princess Diana, I appealed to her Queen, Hippolyta, with the Green Lantern, I appealed to the leaders of his Corps. For Superman, I had no choice but to come to you, as he doesn't work for anyone."

"After the way you fixed up the Barn, I'll talk to him for you Harry," Martha nodded.

"I fixed the fence too," I noted.

"For that, I'm fixing you dinner," she said. "Unless you'd prefer money."

"Dinner is good," I nodded. "Mrs. Kent, I might be able to make those dreams stop…"

oooOOOooo

~ interlude ~

Wednesday 9 February, 2000

The Batman glowered across the table. "Where are they?"

"Not a clue," The Flash responded. "I stopped by Ferris Air on my way to the teleporter to remind Hal as usual, but he wasn't there."

"Hmm," Wayne grunted.

"There is no sign of Hal's transponder anywhere on Earth," Victor Stone interjected. "That is hardly unusual for him, and usually means he was called off planet for his Corps duties. Diana is also not showing up anywhere on the planet, which is also not unusual. It means she's gone home, which is shielded from all of my scans. Clark is on Earth, specifically, in Kansas. Not sure why."

The room flooded with green light and Hal Jordan appeared before the conference table and slumped into his chair. "What is the meeting about?"

"Bruce wants to talk about Harry Potter again," Aquaman said helpfully.

"Nope," Jordan interrupted, "Potter is officially off limits for the Green Lantern Corps."

"If he is committing crimes…" Batman said.

"Off. Limits." Jordan emphasized. "The Guardians were very specific. He could be killing everyone in an entire sector of space and we would avoid him. He isn't killing anyone, so just ignore him."

Wayne's eyes narrowed behind his cowl, "How did he get to you?"

"He didn't get to me," Jordan protested. "He went to Oa, and he spoke with the Guardians of the Universe, my bosses. My bosses told me to stay away from him. He frightened the Guardians of the Universe. That should tell you everything you need to know."

Whatever response the Batman had for that was derailed by Wonder Woman storming into the conference room. Glowering at the men in the room, she set her sword on the table before taking her seat.

"Do not start with me. I have had a most difficult meeting with my mother," she snarled.

"Hal came in in a mood over his Leader's reaction to the two of you and Superman confronting Harry Potter," Barry noted. "Did he…"

"He informed my mother of my actions," she admitted. "I do not know how he found Themyscira, but he did. He appeared on our coast, signaled for the sentries, requested an audience with my mother, and plied her with baked confections and tales of my defeat at the hands of his…" an expression of distaste replaced her anger, "concubines."

"Did these women have Power Rings as well?" Batman asked.

"No," Jordan answered. "My Ring identified what they did as manipulation of quanta via force of will."

"What does that mean?" Barry asked.

"Magic," Arthur supplied helpfully. "Harry has the ability to do magic as well. Vulko commented on it when Harry assisted him in the foundry. It only makes sense that he would have friends with similar abilities."

"What does Potter's meeting with your mother mean for you, Diana?" Victor asked, trying to get the discussion off the topic of magic, a concept he was intensely uncomfortable with.

"By my mother's decree, I am to aid him in any way that I can. If it will get the recipe for his 'chocolate chip biscuits' I am to offer him my body," a look of distaste washed over her features. "I pray to Hera that she was joking about that. I am not to interfere in his hunting and destruction of the Black Lanterns, nor am I to allow any of you to do so. Further, if the opportunity presents itself, I am to invite Harry Potter to visit Hades in the Underworld, as Hades is a big fan of Potter's supposed patron."

"A chocolate chip biscuit recipe?" The Flash asked incredulously. "That sounds horrible."

"Potter is English," Batman growled. "What the English call biscuits, we call cookies."

Barry Allen reached for his iced tea, "Oh, well, that makes sense. Must be good cookies."

Everyone's attention focused on the door when Superman entered.

"You're late," the Batman barked.

"Bite me," the Kryptonian responded uncharacteristically. "I had to finish my chores before I could come out."

Several seconds of silence filled the conference room before Victor Stone spoke. "Okay, we know what Potter did to Hal and Diana, what did he do to you?"

"He told my mother on me!" Superman thundered. "I'm grounded."

"Clark," Batman said, in what was for him, a gentle tone, "You are a grown man. You can't be grounded."

"Tell that to my mother," Kent seethed. "I can go to work, I can do my nightly patrols, I can respond to emergencies or come to meetings as long as my chores are done. I'm grounded for a month. And God help me if I bother Harry Potter again."

Aquaman found all of this to be hilarious, "I am so glad I accepted his offer of making a deal," he gasped out between bouts of laughing. "I can't imagine what might have happened if he got angry at me."

"What bothers me is the ease in which he defanged all three of you," the Batman noted. "Our three heaviest hitters out of the picture, he's got to be thinking that we can't touch him."

"This has to be a new kind of evil," Victor suggested. "On the face of it, it's the actions of a kid out to get even, but…"

"Don't any of you understand?" Jordan asked. "Harry Potter cannot possibly be evil."

"Why not?" Barry asked.

"He was in a three-some," Hal explained. "Only the most pure of heart and character could ever obtain that holy status."

"Those women were enthralled," Diana protested.

"No!" Hall disagreed. "You didn't see them, they weren't possessed. You didn't see their eyes, they were pissed when we showed up in their bedroom. If I didn't know better, I would have thought the whole thing was their idea, and Potter was just along for the ride, so to speak."

"Hal," Barry sighed, "did you actually graduate from college, or did you spend all your time at your Frat Parties?"

"Enough," the Batman said, pinching the bridge of his nose through his mask. "So far, the only time Potter has reacted has been in relation to Black Lantern attacks. Everyone keep on your toes, and report if you hear from him."

Superman stood up and headed for the door.

"Stop, Kal-el." Diana called.

The hero stopped before he reached the door, "Yes, Diana?"

"You exhibited a weakness when facing off against Potter, one that disabled you long enough that he could put you out of the fight without much effort."

Superman blushed. "I was caught by surprise," he said.

"Potter was right about one thing," Wonder Woman noted. "If your enemies learn of this weakness, they will exploit it."

"He said that?" Clark asked.

"He did, which is why you and I are going to spar," Diana confirmed.

"How will that help?"

"We will be sparring in the way of the Amazons," Diana confided. "Nude."

"We are not!" Superman shouted, attracting the attention of the rest of the League.

"We will, until you overcome this weakness," Diana concluded, dragging him out of the room, toward the combat area.

It took almost a minute before Hal Jordan spoke. "I don't suppose anyone wants to…"

"I wouldn't," the Batman said. "Knowing Diana, anyone who comes down to spectate will likely find themselves naked and participating."

"Oh," Jordan said, deflating a bit.

Barry pushed Hal in the direction of the teleporters with a chuckling Victor Stone following them.

"Say, Bruce," Arthur asked once the two of them were alone. "this place is rigged with security cameras, isn't it?"

"Of course," the Batman affirmed.

"Will you be reviewing the video feed?"

"I believe I will," Wayne admitted.

"I knew it," Arthur laughed, "you're as bad as Hal."

"Arthur," Wayne sighed as the entire wall lit up, showing itself to be a massive display, "I am a multibillionaire, I've seen naked women before, even women almost as impressive as Diana. To maintain my cover, I've even had a few of Hal's mythical threesomes. What I haven't seen, is Clark getting his invulnerable ass handed to him."

On the screen Diana slammed Clark into a heavily reinforced wall face first, hard enough to overload the inertial dampeners and cause the entire watchtower to shake.

"That," Bruce said happily, "is going to be my Christmas card this year."

"Does this place have any popcorn?" Arthur asked.

oooOOOooo


End file.
